


The Cynthia and Owain Variety Show

by LemonyDave



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Characters and relationships added as I go, F/M, Mostly Dorky couple being dorks, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonyDave/pseuds/LemonyDave
Summary: Fluff, angst, and edge as colorful as the two leads it focuses on. Come and see the heroine herself pierce the darkness and as the blood flowing through his sword hand comes to a boil. Together they are.....(Pause for effect).....The Justice Cabal. (Nailed it.)





	1. Owain Dark Arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: Hey internet! We’re Baaaack!~ Le Him. Say Hi!  
> Le Him: Ey yo!  
> Le Me: I got bored again. You thought I wasn’t going to write a fanfiction about Owain and Cynthia with how much I talked about them last time?  
> Le Him: Yes. Because writing requires effort.  
> Le Me: Are you calling me lazy?  
> Le Him: Are you saying you’re not?  
> Le Me: Me stopping Hopeless was just writer’s block. This is going to be a good one.  
> Le Him: It has been like a ye--  
> Le Me: Let’s just get this started Shall We?

Where is she? Owain was sure that he would have found her by now, or she would have found him… He didn’t see her on the battlefield, though he did have a chat with his mother-- He got to see his mother again! His father was as cheerful as ever… with that same underlying rage bubbling just beneath the surface. His aching blood. The aching blood he inherited. He could sense it, the kindred spirit of father and son. ...Though when he attempted to show his solidarity, Henry just called his mother back in. Truly odd.  


But he had delayed enough. If she was here, he had to find her. He had to find the other member of the justice cabal. Then he saw them. Lucina and Severa! Red and blue. Well… Maroon. Not to be confused with orange red. Why was hair color so confusing? He must greet them in the most heroic way he can muster…  


“Lo!” He cries out. “Who is this my eye catches?” He poses, his sword arm held before him, eyes closed and angled towards the ground. He gallops around to the front of them to finish the pose, the uneven stance. Perfect.  


Severa does not look impressed.  


“Oh gods…” Classic Severa. The…  


“Mercenary of Ice!” Nailed it. “And also my cousin of the exalted brand!” Lucina looks happy enough to see him.  


“How are you Owain?”  


“My sword hand remains under my control.” Said hand clenched into a fist. “I am doing quite well. How are you wielder of the grand blade Falchion?” Lucina shrugs.  


“I could be better.” Lucina smiles. “But I am certainly happier knowing you are safe.”  


“Of course!” Move into another pose…. Could be better, but he can work with it. “No mere bandits can get the best of Owain Dark!”  


“...I’m fine too. Not that you asked.” Severa claimed, looking almost melancholy? Not her usual prickly self at all. Owain is more than slightly disturbed, but he can always just change the subject…  


“Who else is among our ranks?”  


“Laurent, Inigo, and Noire.” Ugh. Inigo? And Lucina says that like it is a good thing?  


“Ah yes! The fell mage Laurent, The…” Asshole. “Fiend blade Inigo, and Noire of the Blood and Thunder.”  


“Could you quit it with the titles?” Severa snaps.  


“All…” Inigo is here. He’s probably going to make fun of us again. “Erm… Mostly sweet music to my ears!” But… Cynthia wasn’t one of the names. “...Is that all?” Severa’s face breaks out into one of her nasty smirks. Something particularly cutting was coming…  


“No, we haven’t found your girlfriend yet.” Owain gasps despite himself while Severa snickers.  


“Cynthia of the scarlet wing is not my lover! She is my partner! How dare you imply such a thing?”  


“Well…” Lucina looks uncomfortable. “You do spend all of your time with her when you can.”  


“We are the Justice Cabal!” Pose. ...Perhaps that one didn’t have enough impact. “Dynamic duo!” Another pose. Damn. Owain decided to cut his losses. “Of course we are inseparable!”  


“Oh yes. Truly. That is your only reason.”  


“Precisely! I am glad you un-- Wait, you were being sarcastic.”  


“Of course I was!” Severa snaps again.  


Owain chuckles. “Severa. Wit as cutting as ever I see.”  


“Would you two quit wasting everyone’s time and just get together already? Gods!”  


“I have no such intentions with Cynthia!” Owain snarls. Both of the girls look taken aback. “...I am sorry I asked. The weapons tent calls me.”  


Owain tromped off, being sure to look extra heroic while doing so.  


He didn’t miss Cynthia. That was preposterous! They are just a duo! They are both less effective heros without the other. They aren’t an item… In that sense of the word. They are merely warriors cut from the same cloth! She understood him… accepted him when everyone else wouldn’t. They were friends, allies, partners, but not lovers.  
He missed her smile when she bounced and hummed her entrance music. He missed them debating whether a hero’s entrance, or weapon and strikes were more important. He missed coming up with powerful names with her. He missed the way she dozed off on his shoulder sometimes when they shared guard duty. The way she snored softly when breathing out. He missed her fiery red hair, the way she flew on her pegasus.  


He was just thinking these thoughts because they were apart for so long. Two months without your superhero partner was an eternity. It was scientifically proven! He wouldn’t be thinking about how her eyes glittered like black diamonds in the night-- an even darker shade than in the light. The way her hair looked down… the way her red hair fell any way she did it was magic. He wouldn’t be thinking these things if she was here.  


He was worried. She had a hard time with faces. She was a bit more gullible than him as well. What if some knave had her in his clutches? What if she was imprisoned? What if she was dead? What if he never saw his friend again?  


She would be fine. The Scarlet wing is not so easily killed after all. He would find her sooner or later. They just had to keep looking. He would prefer sooner. A justice cabal is not a cabal with only one member. He is not as heroic without her. ...His aching blood is harder to control. She would be fine. Right?

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“Chrom! Chrom?” Where was that man? Counting gold again? If it wasn’t for his reputation, she would say that he wasn’t very heroic at all.  
There he sat. She couldn’t… exactly remember what Chrom looked like. This man was tall and lanky. She had never seen Chrom before-- he died before she was born-- but shouldn’t a swordfighter of his caliber be a bit more built? If Owain was any indication…  


She felt her face reddening despite herself. Owain was not the person to be thinking about in the face of royalty! Even though he was royalty. Technically. She shouldn’t think about Owain right now! Things just got weird. Recently everything was becoming weird when it came to him...  


Where was Owain? She wasn’t sure about anything without him… He always had a knack for spotting evildoers a mile away. She wasn’t so good at that part. She was better at being heroic when other people were helping her be heroic. Owain was always a great partner. He always knew what was going on...  


It wasn’t that she missed him necessarily! She didn’t miss the way his hands rested on her waist when they were flying together… She didn’t miss his spikey white hair, and she especially didn’t miss the way he could always make her smile! She didn’t miss him, she didn’t miss him, she didn’t miss him.  


...Who was she kidding? He was her greatest ally. Of course she would miss him. If he was just here, she wouldn’t be thinking this way! Especially not the time she walked in on him changing. ...His chest was so muscular…  


She hoped that he would find his way back to the shepherds soon. ...The others too of course! But mostly him.  


Although these shepherds weren’t exactly… The most heroic. Her Mom and dad weren’t anywhere! Although… She had problems recognizing people at the best of times. Who was she to say for sure that none of these people were Shepherds? Half the time she could barely recognize Lucina! Let alone warriors she had only seen paintings of.  


She didn’t like them. They smelled, and stared at her ass half the time when they thought she wasn’t looking. The skirt was part of the official pegasus knight uniform! Not an invitation to try and sneak a peek at her underwear! Even Chrom! It was rather disconcerting. And all the girls were seemingly… missing. It was bizarre.  


But Chrom always sent her off to smite evildoers. She was never in camp long enough to think about it. How many bandit camps were on one island? She had destroyed at least four. And he always told her about how a great hero didn’t need backup! That these camps were no match for a great hero. It made her wonder why they weren’t destroyed earlier…  


But perhaps the stories about them were exaggerated. Perhaps her fears were unfounded. Perhaps these were the Shepherds she had heard so much about. A bunch of pervy men on an island that sent her to take care of bandit camps alone.  
…  


Where was Owain? She needed him. He would know for sure… She felt like only half of a hero without him…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to try to update this regularly. Maybe get a backlog going. But it’s good to be back writing again. By the time you are reading this, I will have the first three chapters done, and I will be updating this every… let’s say Friday. Sometime Friday. Bring your friends. It’s going to be great. See you Next week.


	2. The Scarlet Wing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: Chapter 2 Bitches!  
> Le Him: That’s not very nice.  
> Le Me: We are in a M rated fic now.  
> Le Him: Well you still don’t have to fuckin curse.  
> Le Me: Anyway. New chapter. We now have violence!  
> Le Him: Enjoy you peck necks.

A town on an island, seemingly prosperous, but everyone was avoiding uncle Chrom as if he had the plague. The blood in Owain’s sword hand could sense evil, one of his many gifts as a hero, and right now his blood was surging. ...A voice? Who speaks?  


“Owain! Owain?” His mother! He had to find a large rock or… a tree would have to do. Climb up, and… brooding pose. Beautiful. Perfect.  


“Owain?” Lissa stood at the foot of the tree, looking concerned. “What are you doing here?”  


“The aching blood in my veins senses evil near, and my other five do as well.” Owain opens his eyes and turns his head to look at his mother. “Do you feel it mother? The tension. Crackling in the air like a thunder tome about to be cast?” Raise sword arm… slowly. By the axe of Hector he felt heroic. “The townsfolk fear us-- but why? Surly they have reason to fear Owain Dark, but why Uncle Chrom?” Hand… back to resting chin… “This is all quite perplexing, it has the heroic blood in my veins surging. If I do not find the source of this evil soon, I fear that I may lose control.”  


“Lose control? What are you losing contro--”  


“MY ACHING BLOOD!” Clench sword hand, jump from tree… superhero landing. Nailed it. Made his knees hurt, but he was on fire today… on fire… “The flame of evil surges out of control in this place. Without the power of my blood, it will never be quenched. I must put it out at the source.”  
As he was about to hurry off, his audience spoke up:  


“Actually, Frederick already found the source. A bandit is impersonating Chrom and ‘collecting taxes.’ Robin insisted that you help hold the front line.”  


“Naturally. Owain Dark’s power surpasses what is normally held on this mortal plane.” Another pose… not as good. Is he slipping? No matter.  


“When Severa and Noire were asking around town, they found out about the fiendishness of these supposed shepherds… all but one.” Mother’s words had the potential to be heroic, but her delivery was off. Owain made a mental note to discuss that with her later.  


“Oh?” Owain said, mostly just happy that she was playing along.  


“A pegasus knight apparently. Single Handedly took out four of the other bandit camps plaguing them with odd bravado.” Lissa grinned. “They immediately said that if anyone could talk some sense into her, it would be you Owain.”  
Cynthia? His heart soared at the idea. If she was Cynthia, then of course she would listen to him! They were heroes of the same cloth after all, the dynamic duo, the Justice Cabal!  


“Lead the way mother. I’ll talk to Cynthia.”  


“Oh is that her name?~ Severa was just calling her your girlfriend!”  


“That fiend!”  


“Soooo… what is she like? Tellmetellmetellme!”  


“She is not my girlfriend, and we do not have the time now! We must away to the battlefield!” Owain rushes away from the embarrassing conversation with as much heroism as he can muster.  


Cynthia… He tried to call out to her with his soul of souls-- Owain Dark was coming.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Cynthia soared through the air, her mother’s pegasus Caedea’s legs spinning over and over themselves with wingbeat after wingbeat. She adjusted the grip on her lance. Archers. At least two of them. These were no bandits armed with hatchets and pitchforks. This was a trained fighting force, armed to the teeth. Ragtag as they were, a motley crew with no regular uniform, one wearing what she HOPED was form fitting black fabric and not fishnet… her face burned at the thought.  
The point was that this group was larger than the shepherds, better armed than the shepherds, and forming up opposite the shepherds as if they were preparing for war  


This was the definition of bad.  


How the hell was she supposed to protect Chrom? She was a failure as a hero, a pegasus knight, and a heroic pegasus knight. (Three very different things.) How could she justify her identity if she failed in this? How could she look Lucina, Severa, any of them in the eyes again if she let Chrom die?  
How could she look Owain in the eyes again?  


…  


No. What would Owain do? They’ve lived through tougher scrapes than this together. What would Owain do? He would propose to hold off the hordes by himself. Sacrifice his life for everyone else’s. Thank God for Morgan, or else Owain would be dead a hundred times over. But… that wasn’t heroic at all! Owain was stuck on an idea that would ultimately result in his death. ...True heroes never die.  


What would Cynthia do? Cynthia would rush into battle, helping her comrades, and emerge victorious with her theme song playing along. She was still Cynthia, even if she didn’t feel like her right now. She was still Cynthia. Even if she didn’t feel like she was right now.  


She landed in the pseudo shepherd’s camp resolved-- she would beat the imposters back. By herself if she had to. And she would live. Because that was the sort of thing that 

Cynthia, the Scarlet Wing of Justice did regularly.  


She rushes into Chrom’s tent. He is counting money as per usual.  


“Chrom? Sir? Pegasus Knight Cynthia returned from patrol, sir!” She experiences the familiar feeling of her feet meeting nothing but thin air. She begins to topple forward. She hears the crunch of cartilage as her nose flattens against her face. … Again. She stands up and dusts herself off.  


“Oof.” She can tell she sounds pinched. She crackles her nose back into place. ...too bad it was too late for the metallic tang flowing over her lips. “Right on the face. S-sorry for my clumsiness sir!” She salutes. “I promise I won’t trip again for at least another 24 hours!”  


“That’d be a new record.” Chrom sounded unconcerned about the blood running down her face… “Now out with it girl! What did you see?” Cynthia saw how his eyes followed her as she bounced. She internally cringed in disgust. But it would not do to let her liege lord know her distaste with his actions.  


“A suspicious band of travelers have been spotted in town… and they’re forming up against us now.”  


“Oh?” Chrom smirked. Perhaps he could send out his beautiful flying ace once more…  


“They fly the banners and colors of the shepherds of Ylisse! I suspect they are imposters posing as you! They must be stopped at once!” Cynthia saw him purse his lips.  


“Erm… Right... Posing as me.” Why was he so hesitant? “But uh… we don’t have the men to fight off these imposters. Best to swallow our pride and exercise the better part of valor for now…”  


“Allow me to dispatch these imposters!”  


“NO!!” Chrom clears his throat. “I need you to help escort me to safety.”  


“They have archers. They would spot me and shoot me down in seconds. I am going to need support in this fight.” Cynthia pauses. “Plus Caedea wouldn’t be able to carry all of that gold.”  


“Who in Naga’s name is Caedea?”  


“My pegasus.” Cynthia purses her lips. She is starting to wonder how Chrom became a hero at all. If he was like this in her timeline, the most heroic thing he did was die. …And dying isn’t heroic at all.  


“Oh. Right. Well… you know your limitations best I suppose. If we survive this battle, I would like us to escape together.” There was that look again. It made her blood run cold. The look that made her feel like a piece of meat that rode a pegasus and not the hero she was at all. It made her… feel sick. “Evidently we need to get to know one another better.”  


“Clearly!” She hummed her theme song, suppressing her gag reflex. “I’m going to get into position!”  
She rushed out of the tent, and hopped onto Caedea once again, tears involuntarily streaming down her cheeks. Where was Owain? Maybe he could make Chrom stop it…

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain is watching as their opponents line up against him.These are the fiends that have ensnared Cynthia in a web of lies for who knows how long. Owain draws his blade. His sword hand knows. It is trembling involuntarily. Fear? Don’t be preposterous. This feeling was the dread his aching blood inspired in his body before battle broke out. His mind and soul vying with his blood and hand for control over his body. He wasn’t afraid of the mercenaries that were being stirred up into a frenzy by this false Chrom… He wasn’t afraid of their gleaming weapons, and the greed in their eyes. That was something Yarne would be doing. He was no Yarne. He was a brave, powerful warrior…  


He searched for Cynthia… It all relied on her. She was the way he got out of this alive while still being heroic. He could easily take care of these ametuer level villians (For all villians were ametuer level compared to Grima) if he could just find her…  


There! He’d recognize that pegasi anywhere! A younger version of it was in their army’s ranks right now. She hummed her entrance theme.  
Owain breaks rank and charges towards Cynthia.  


“Ho Evildoers, you have met your match. For I have arrive--” Two of the enemy soldiers charge, attempting to flank him, one takes a pommel to the face, the other a blade to the neck. They never let him finish in peace. He finishes the one he smashed with a quick jab to the heart.  


“Ahem…” Owain regains his composure. “I have arrived.”  


Another opponent, a so called “Hero” class (what a misnomer) charges up and engages him.  


“It is your bane, the one who fears nothing but the idea of fear.” Dodge two strikes, try a stab, damn. That shield did cause issues. “It is the one who’s blood boils at the sight of evil, despite his own curse barely being restrained.” That was a close dodge, but Owain had him set up now… A chop downward removes the hand. He screams. “It is the lover of justice juxtaposed with the hand of destruction--” Remove the head to cut the screams. “The hero Owain Dark!”  


Cynthia’s heart soared when she started to hear his voice. But… He was attacking the shepherds! Cynthia bit her lip as she watched him struggle with the hero, her heart battling with her duty. She saw the sniper aiming for Owain’s head, saw the smirk on his face, and in that instant, every perverted look, every snide grin, every time they sent her off to die alone came back in a rush of rage and anger and fear for Owain’s life.  


If these were the Shepherds, she wanted nothing to do with them.  


She lunged forward and took down the Sniper with one stab. Then lunged again and took out another warrior charging Owain. She wasn’t thinking. She was killing, trying to reach her heroic partner… She grabs his hand and swings him onto her pegasus.  


Sometimes it is the most heroic to give great speeches and name weapons, and to speak and speak and speak… but sometimes the most heroic thing to do is say nothing at all. You may not believe it, but these two understood that concept well. They didn’t practice it as often as they should, but here… not a word was needed. They just stepped back into working with one another without another word.  


Cynthia would lunge, Owain would jump off to get extra force behind his splitting blade. Cynthia would quickly destroy threats to Owain, while Owain charged Archers before they had time to shoot Cynthia down. They almost instinctively knew where the other was at any given time. Almost as if they understood each other’s movements better than their own.  


They held the entire left flank on their own. They actually had the potential together to do something neither could hope to achieve on their own. A concept that was not lost on Robin in the least. Every time she looked over to the other side of the battlefield, she smiled.  


“SACRED STONES!” Owain shouted, lashing out. “Gaiden! Shadow Dragon!”  


“Owain! Chrom’s getting away!”  


“The imposter or the real one?”  


“I-I dunno! This is confusing!” Cynthia covers her ears. “I thought mine was the real one!”  


“No, Cynthia. That one was the imposter!”  


“Then the imposter is getting away!”  
Ruger drags a massive bag of gold along behind him, inching forward between the trees while the mercenaries he hired with words smashed into the other Shepherds. He was trying, he really was. Normally he probably could have escaped no problem. ...But his greed slowed him to a crawl.  


“He isn’t getting away very quickly.” Owain commented.  


“I’m going to plant a flying hoof in his stupid liar face!” Cynthia snarled. “His stupid PERVERTED lying face!”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Today was just not Ruger’s day.  
It started out alright with an especially big haul… It started out excellently. Who was he kidding? Money was always the best thing… but then the real Chrom shows up, and his girlie didn’t want to escape with him! Then he saw that there were some mercenaries, saw there was a bit of hope. Paid them with words, then booked it, hoping that they would buy him some time. Then watched as that hope evaporated in a puff of smoke. Watched those mercenaries and his gang get ripped apart while he dragged a sack of gold across the forest floor.  


He was terrified.  


Now he was hearing the sound of wingbeats. His-- Cynthia betrayed him. Took out half of his gang on her own. And now he was hearing the wingbeats of fate trailing him. He had to choose between his life and his gold.  


He chose his life too late. A man jumps down and does a strange pose with his hand in front of his face. ...He should be terrified, but he wants to burst out laughing instead.  


“I must admit.” The man said. “Your disguise is quite good. You got the right shade of blue for your hair, and your outfit is almost correct.” His hand becomes a blur, and the man cuts off his right sleeve.  


“A true man of the exalted blood does not obscure his brand.” Ruger blocks the next strike.  


“Your face is a bit too skinny, your cheeks too concave, and you have a wispy blonde beard.” The man backs off a bit. “You were close, but not close enough.” The man sheaths his blade. Ruger laughs at his audacity.  


“You aren’t continuing the attack? The initiative is mine then!” Sudden darkness.  


A pegasus hoof burst his head like a watermelon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was fun. Our leads finally get to interact more next chapter! Enjoy!


	3. Heroes sharpen Heroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: Oh boy. Moving right along.  
> Le Him: Spoiler alert. Grima dies this chapter.  
> Le Me: But seriously. What do you think so far?  
> Le Him: I dunno. Not enough smut? Can this be the smut chapter?  
> Le Me: I have never once written smut.  
> Le Him: “They… began… fucking. It was passionate. Right in front of me.”  
> Le Me: ...That doesn’t count. It wasn’t ten years long. And it wasn’t detailed enough. It only counts as smut if you go into detail.  
> Le Him: Whateeeeeever you say. Enjoy the chapter guys!

The weight of Cynthia’s actions came bearing down on her all at once. These weren’t faceless Risen, or bandits… She just killed people that she lived, ate with, and supported for three months. Even if the relationship was one sided and exploitative, all of that effort put in to this was now wasted… All of that heroism… Wasted on bandits. It made her want to--  


She threw up on Ruger’s disgusting broken head.  


Brains and vomit mixed and merged on that forest floor, making a symphony of a scent describing a moment of pure and unbridled realization. She could have attacked and hurt her friends. She could have made her friends kill her. Her family and their comrades. She was so close to throwing everything away everything for a shepherds that weren’t even real. For a group of heroes so villainous that they would hold an entire island hostage. And she was such an incurable idiot that she thought that they were the heroes she was looking for! All because the one she could recognize sort of looked like him? He didn’t have the falchion or the brand, but she didn’t ask for any sort of proof. She was so sure that her quest was over… so incurably optimistic that her quest was over, that she didn’t even question the validity of Ruger’s claims…  


She felt tears run down her face, and sobs bubble from her lips… she couldn’t help herself, snot running out of her nose, and the world seen through a distorting veil of water. She saw a shoulder she recognized. Owain. Her face immediately glomed to it, hiding her weakness from a world bent on her destruction. Owain, her friend, her greatest ally, her confidant, he was as important to her as Caedea, or her spear and armor. She couldn’t be a proper pegasus knight without any of it… no… Owain was more important. Armor, spears, and pegasai could be replaced. Like it or not. Owain couldn’t. He was her irreplaceable gem of a friend. He understood her, and she understood him in a world too busy being confused by their antics to care about the humans underneath… Too familiar with the heroic bravado to dig any deeper past to find the still very vulnerable core.  


“I could have killed you!” She finally gasped after a few minutes.  


“I know, I know…” Owain said as she cried. She believed him. He always knew. He knew her like the back of his own hand. She realized he was holding her… His arms felt right around her… She felt herself calm down a bit.  


“Owain… if you tell anyone about how unheroic I’m being right now, I’ll never talk to you again.” She felt herself becoming satisfied and comfortable… what was wrong with her?  


“Alright. I’ll add it to the list.” List? List?  


“What list?” She pushed herself away from him.  


“You told me not to talk about them anymore.” Owain said. “Especially the time when I fell off Cadea when we were practicing special moves, and you accidentally landed on my leg.”  


“Noooo! Stop! Not that again!”  


“I was in bed for a month.” Owain was grinning.  


“Stop that!”  


“But did I tell my Mom even once what actually happened?”  


“No.” Cynthia sighed, then smiles spunkily once more. “Thanks.”  


“Glad to see my partner feeling better.” Owain closed his eyes, and opened them Owain Dark.  


“We have emerged victorious in battle once more. I have defeated the evildoers who deceived Cynthia singlehandedly and have saved my partner from a fate worse than death!” He moves fluidly into another pose, one of his favorites, clasping his left hand around his right wrist, and making his right hand a fist. “We walk back to camp, the bloodlust of my swordhand sated… for now. But a fresh offering must be found so that the curse on my hand does not spiral out of control spelling the demise of everyone around me! Even Cynthia…”  


“Owain! What did I say about you killing me in your stories?” Cynthia put her hands on her hips.  


“I haven’t killed you. It was just--”  


“A threat. You were threatening to kill me.”  


“It is more a natural consequence of not sating the bloodlust of my swordhand.” Owain looks a bit… sheepish. Good.  


“Why does the natural consequence of things always result in death? My death. Your death. Everyone’s death?” Naga she missed this… A true test of her heroing philosophy. “Why can’t we all be heroes, and charge into battle, emerge victorious, and then live our lives?”  


“Because those who die on the battlefield sacrifice everything. It’s selfless.”  


“What is the point of being a hero if you don’t get to experience the gratitude?”  


“Because heroism without the reward of attention is truly selfless.” Owain smirks. As if he has won.  


“But dying and not returning to your loved ones is a tragedy in itself.” Cynthia smugly crossed her arms. Owain just smiled sadly.  


“Cynthia, we failed our world. This world is a completely different place, with similar people. I love every moment here, but… if I have to die to protect this world, I will. And it won’t matter because my family is already dead.” ...Cynthia felt like screaming. Like slapping him over and over. Reminding him about her. What would she do if he died? She… She didn’t want him to leave her again. Ever. He made her really think about things. About why she chose the path she chose. Heroes sharpen heroes just as iron sharpens iron, and Owain kept her at a razor edge. His family is already dead? It didn’t matter, if he really wanted one, she could be his family!  


…  


Sweet Naga… When did she fall in love with him?

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain heard someone about fifteen yards away.  


“Well, well, well. This is quite the stache. This could put me in the sweet stuff for years. Oi! Poser! You over there?” Poser. That was quite the clever nickname Gaius gave him.  


“Yes! Gaius of the sweetened tooth. Come! Your destiny awaits!”  


“Heh. I thought I was the one for nicknames. Hey, uh… who is this?” Gaius pointed at Cynthia. Cynthia pursed her lips and whispered in Owain’s ear:  


“Hey… erm… I think that’s my Dad, but I just reeeally want to be sure…  


“I hope he is. He married your Mom.” Owain lifted the gold bag. “I’ll leave you two to talk this out on your own. This gold is nothing to Owain Dark!” He charged off back to camp.  


Why isn’t the feeling going away? Why is he not getting over these strange feelings now that she has back? Were they always there? Hiding just beneath the surface, unwilling to emerge due to losing proximity? Or did they develop with distance as he originally thought, and the floodgates refused to close?  
Inigo. That name would suffice to die on his sword. But… Cynthia loved him. Owain knew it. The way she looked at him, the way she sighed and shook her head every time he pursued another woman. The way she reacted every time he asked her to tea, as if she would accept if only she would be the only one to ask… The way she butted heads with Severa, competing for what he could only assume could be his affections. If Owain told her his feelings, the Justice Cabal would shatter like a sweet spring illusion. If only… If only…  


Owain dropped the gold off with his Aunt Robin. She was making her rounds…  


“That’s… a lot of gold.” Her eyes were wide.  


“The fiend has been stealing from the populace for an eternity.” Owain posed. Not quite right. “I merely brought back the funds he swiped from the people of this town.”  


“We could do a lot with this. Thank you Owain!”  


“Think nothing of it.” Another pose. That’s better. That’s what he’s talking about! “Owain Dark has no desire for monetary compensation.”  


“I was referring to your work today as well.” Robin pursed her sensual lips. ...No wonder she attracted the attentions of the Exalt. “You work far better with Cynthia then you do on your own.”  


“Naturally. We are heroic partners after all.” Owain smiled.  


“I don’t want to break that sort of bond up. Especially not when it is so tactically viable… You two are going to be battle partners. Any objections?”  


“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Cynthia of the Scarlet Wing and Owain Dark are a powerful combination indeed…”  


“Good. You two seem used to working with one another anyway, so I won’t have Frederick micromanage your training too much.” Robin taps her chin. “I’ll start running simulations with you two in mind right away. How well do you two do against other fliers?”  


“Usually Noire dealt with the fliers…” Owain considered this.  


“It shows in your strategies--”  


“Do you mean our combo attacks?”  


“Erm, sure. I may have you two train with Sumia and Gaius. It seems that you two may be a similar pair. I’ll tell them to especially work on anti- flier tactics. I want you two to be well rounded after all.”  


“We’re training with Cynthia’s parents?”  


“Is that an issue?”  


“No. Not at all! It just means I’ll have to work twice as hard!”  


“To impress them?” Robin cocked her head.  


“I never said that!” Owain huffed.  


“Mmm. Your parents told me to send you to the inn if I saw you. The townsfolk are hosting us out of gratitude.” Robin points to a reasonably sized building-- the largest in town.  


“Right. Many thanks for pointing Owain Dark in the correct direction.”  


“One last thing.”  


“Yes?”  


“Please don’t break rank again.” Robin touches his hair. She just touched his hair! That isn’t heroic! He isn’t a child! “I wouldn’t want my precious nephew getting killed in battle.”  


Owain grumbles and shuffles off towards the inn.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The inn was filled with the bustle of Waitresses and shepherds. The smell of food and alcohol filled the air, twisting and writhing in a sensual dance, seducing the one who passes for one simple bite. Mother and Father already had a table, both with their eternal smiles.  


“Hey Owain! You did well today. Impressive!” Henry says.  


“A trivial thing for a hero of my caliber. Those bandits were no match for the likes of the justice cabal.”  


“Oh is that what you call yourselves?~ How cute!”  


“Mom. The Justice Cabal is not cute. It is a fighting force for the immovable hand of justice. A hand that cursed mine ow--”  


“A curse?” Henry closes his eyes and wiggles his fingers a bit. “I don’t sense anything on you…”  


“Father! Tha--” Broke character for a second. “It makes no difference. Cynthia and I are heroic partners. We battle together.”  


“Robin may move you around.” Lissa commented. “You did perform well together today--”  


“Cynthia and I are training with Gaius and Sumia starting tomorrow.”  


“Oh! That’s great news!” Lissa smiles. “I really should get to know Cynthia! And Sumia seems nice. I really should talk with her more often!”  


“Don’t worry about Gaius. He’s a pretty swell guy! He wouldn’t put you in a casket.” Henry nods sagely.  


“Why would Gaius kill me?”  


“Dad’s get really protective of their daughters. I know if I had a daughter, and her boyfriend came up to me? There would be blood. ...Mmm. Blood.”  


“Cynthia is not my girlfriend!” Owain purses his lips.  


“But you’re so cute together! All your talk of justice and triumph and heroism.”  


“My hero per--” Almost broke character again. “I am not cute!” Pose. Weak. Needs work. 0/10 do not use again. “I walk the fine line between the light and the shadow, doing good, yet barely controlling my dastardly sword hand. With my blade Missiletainn in hand, I will strike down evil wherever it lurks! Those who stalk the night fear the name of Owain Dark.”  


“Dawww…”  


“Mother! Quit making fun of me!”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Cynthia was wiggling in excitement. Her parents were alive! And here in front of her! She didn’t know what to say, how could she possibly portray herself as heroic enough for their standards?  


They sat in the inn, waitresses bustling about with drinks and food-- ordered chaos. Cynthia thrives in this sort of environment. Enough leeway so that she could pursue her heroic deeds, but enough order that no one would get in her way. Of course, if she ever had to serve food, then she would probably trip…  


“This one is definitely ours.” Gaius commented. “She loves sweets, and she tripped at least five times on the way here.”  


“Dad, why did you have to mention the whole tripping thing? It’s so unheroic!” Cynthia pouted and Sumia giggled a bit.  


“This one IS definitely mine. I act like I’m a book character sometimes too!” Sumia smiled at her daughter. “Some of my favorites were Madame Shambles, Lyn the Lady of the Plains, Beano the Barbarian Queen--”  


“Ooh! Ooh! You always read that one to me! I loved playing Beano the Barbarian Queen!” Cynthia humed her theme song. “But this isn’t an act! It’s who I am! I am Cynthia, the Scarlet wing. Evil despairs when they look upon my trusty steed, and falls upon the tip of my mighty lance.”  


“Why scarlet?” Gaius cocks his head.  


“Oh. Owain came up with the name! Because I have my Dad’s red hair! But if I were to call myself the red wing, people might think of blood. That’s not heroic at all! So I changed it to Scarlet because Scarlet means red, and doesn’t have blood associated with it!” Cynthia nods decisively.  


“Sweetie…” Gaius sighs. “Scarlet is a shade of red, not the same thing as when someone calls your hair red.” Gaius holds a lock of his. “This is orange red. Severa’s hair is closer to scarlet red.”  


“What?” Cynthia looked astonished.  


“And… Haven’t you heard of the term: ‘rivers running scarlet?’” Sumia shakes her head. “Scarlet is as much associated with blood as red is.  


“But ‘The Orange wing’ doesn’t sound nearly as heroic.” Cynthia whined. “What am I going to call myself now?”  


“Maybe just Cynthia?” Sumia suggested.  


“But I need a title! Something to inspire fear in my enemies, and hope in my allies.” Cynthia ponders this a bit. “I’m better with entrance flourishes, and Owain is better at naming things…”  


“Poser is good at that.” Gaius agreed. “But I am sure we can come up with something.” Gaius closed his eyes for a moment.  


“Cynthia the cinnamon knight?”  


“No... That doesn’t seem quite right.”  


“How about Cynthia Stumbles?” Her mother suggested. “Stumbles is what Gaius called me before we were married.”  


“Ew, gross. Also, tripping is not very heroic…”  


“The candy coated lancer.”  


“Doesn’t really roll off the tongue.”  


“I’d disagree.” Gaius sighs. “But it’s your title.” Gaius pulls a sucker from his pocket.  


“Can we get a bottle of wine please?” Sumia asked the waitress as she passed.  


“Only the finest for our heroes!” The waitress responded as she hurried off.  


“Hrm…” Sumia holds up a finger. “How about ‘queen of the skies?’”  


“That’s what they called Cordelia in our time. ‘Perfect Queen of the skies.’ I’m not one for plagiarism.”  


“No wonder Severa has Mommie issues.”  


“Gaius!” Sumia gasped.  


“What? She does. It’s not as if she hides it very well either.”  


“It isn’t okay to gossip.” Sumia sighs.  


“How about candy floss flier?” Gaius suggests abruptly.  


“Does every name have to be about candy Dad?” Cynthia sighs.  


“Why not? Would you prefer something hackneyed like ‘Wing of Justice’ or something?”  


“Dad! That’s perfect!” Cynthia hums her entrance.  


“Yeah. I kn-- wait, what?”  


“Beware Evildoers! For it is I, Cynthia! Wing of Justice!” Cynthia stands on top of the table, and gives a pose. Owain looks on in awe. “Hero to all, and your bane.” The pose she performed for this was the most magnificent thing Owain had ever seen... He was taking mental notes... Arm outstretched and fingers splayed, other arm crooked in, feet shoulder width apart with the right offset slightly forward... That was the exact pose that needed work earlier! But Cynthia certainly made it work...  


“Erm…” The waitress looks slightly put off. “You ordered wine right? It’s on the house… It looks like you’re going to need it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: No but seriously, I will make an actual attempt to write smut if there is enough interest. Comment your opinion.


	4. Musings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: As per request, if I do the smut, it will be in a completely separate fanfic from this, and after this one is finished.  
> Le Him: It’s going to be at least 300 chapters. Longer than this fic.  
> Le Me: Haha. Whatever.  
> Le Him: In the mean time though…...Who do you think The duo is most like? Batman and Robin? Superman and Krypto? Oprah and Doctor Phil?

“Wing of Justice huh?” It was early morning, and just chilled enough that one could see their breath as they exhale. Owain walked beside Cynthia as she did her morning grooming of Caedea. A thing he has been doing for the past nine years bar when they were seperated.  


“Yup.” Cynthia nods. “Mom and Dad told me all about how scarlet didn't really fit. Scarlet could mean blood too. Did you know that?”  


“Yup.”  


“That’s it?” Cynthia began brushing Cadea’s feathers. “Just a nonchalant agreement?”  


“You’re surprised? I still think Bloodwing is a great title for you.”  


“It makes me sound like a flying lunatic!”  


“Exactly! No better hero than one who has internal conflict.”  


“How about one who you can actually trust to save you?”  


“Overrated.” Owain deadpans. Afterwards they both burst into a fit of giggles.  


“How many times do we have this conversation?” Cynthia asked.  


“Anywhere from a bunch to too many.” Owain tilts his head back and forth. Cynthia gives Cadea her morning oats and dusts off her hands.  


“I’ll take a bunch.”  


“Owain. Part of your problem is that you can’t differentiate between storybook heroes and reality. Sure, an anti-hero makes for a good narrative, but I don’t think a person is concerned with your aching blood when you have to save them.”  


“And what about your entrance flourishes?” Owain raises his eyebrows.  


“Well, I’m thinking now that I have access to real life plants, I have more options. Like a flurry of flower petals!”  


“Sounds like a lot of work for something that could go horribly wrong.” Owain looks at his nails.  


“How could it go horribly wrong?”  


“You could bury your comrades in flowers. It isn’t very heroic to save people from a mess you created.”  


“I suppose not.” Cynthia gives an extra wide grin. “This is why I’m glad we’re back together! I think that… we reign each other in from doing anything too stupid.”  


“Erm, stupid being relative.” That voice-- Inigo steps out of the shadows. Owain subtly clenches and unclenches his fist, glancing at Cynthia, gauging her reaction...  


“Why are you hiding in the shadows like a villain?” Owain presses.  


“I was just passing through.” Inigo shrugs with his immutable smile. “But as long as I am here… Cynthia, would you mind terribly--  


“No. I am not having tea with you.”  


“Damn.” Inigo’s eyes fell momentarily, but it must not have bothered him too much, because less than five seconds later he was back to his normal self.  


“Ah well. I would have had to cancel my plans for tea today anyway.” Inigo shrugged. Both Owain and Cynthia scanned Inigo to see if he was telling the truth. Cynthia said nothing, but instead looked to Owain for confirmation…  


“Who is she?”  


“I’m having tea with my mother.” Cynthia and Owain blinked at this. “I never said it was a romantic endeavor.”  


“Alright, fine. Anything else, or are you going to poke fun at us some more?”  


“You Cynthia? Never. Owain? Probably.”  


“I think there might be a layer of sexism in that statement that I haven’t considered before.” Cynthia deadpanned.  


“I just had a couple questions for you two. Out of curiosity.” Owain clenched his fist.  


“You’re trying to find a way to make fun of us.” Inigo gasped and put a hand to his chest.  


“You wound me sir.”  


“Fine.” Cynthia sighs. “What is the question?”  


“Which one of you is the sidekick?” Little did Inigo know, they had already had this conflict.  


“We are equal partners.” Owain states. “But if one of us is the sidekick, it is Cynthia. She has trouble locating evildoers.”  


“Guilty.” Cynthia sighs. “But you can barely restrain your swordhand, let alone lead someone else. Making you the sidekick.”  


“Also guilty. Hence why we have to be equal partners. We complement one another’s strengths.”  


Inigo was expecting a longer, more entertaining conflict. That was… nothing to it. No real argument. No tension. Just acceptance. Inigo wasn’t one to give up.  


“But if you had to chose one…”  


“Are you trying to apply as our sidekick Inigo?”  


“No! No… I--”  


“I don’t think we should accept someone so finicky.” Cynthia tapped her chin. Inigo looked put out.  


“Me? Too finicky to be your sidekick? You?”  


“We have Cabal meetings every day. You wouldn’t be able to handle not chasing a skirt for an hour.” Cynthia looks at her nails.  


“I could too! I just… don’t want to!”  


“Same as not being able to in my book.” Owain shrugs.  


“Gaaaah!” Inigo rubs his temples. A subtle high five was exchanged between Cynthia and Owain.  


“Oh you think this is funny?”  


“It’s what you were trying to do to us.” Owain pointed out. “So kinda.”  


“Fine. One other question.”  


“Are you going to try and make fun of us again?” Cynthia cocks her head. “Because you shouldn’t ask.”  


“No… I’m asking… for a friend.” Inigo said this in a way that made Owain and Cynthia think he was asking for himself.  
In truth, that was exactly what Inigo wanted them to think. Hopefully he could help them along a bit. No matter how much he bickered, poked fun at them, and called them idiots, they were his idiots. Anyone who wanted to do the same outside their group would have to answer to him. And… in this at least, he could actually help them.  


“Alright. Ask away.”  


“Is it heroic for heroes to fall in love?”  


This gave Owain and Cynthia pause, for love had been on their mind a lot recently. Mutual pining. Obvious to everyone but one another. It was gross.  


“In every story I’ve read, the hero falls in love with someone they rescue.” Cynthia nods thoughtfully.  


“Well, I know about the damsel effect. I’ve used it to get laid many times.” Inigo claimed, despite all three knowing he was a virgin. “I am talking about two heroes. Of equal strength.” He HOPED the equal strength comment would be enough for them to realize that he was talking about them. Sadly, subtlety was lost on these two.  


“Well of course it is.” Owain shrugged. “Look at all of our parents. All of them were battle partners first. Nothing is more heroically romantic than a couple of people that trust one another implicitly working towards the same goal.”  


“Hm.” Inigo had to admit that was good insight-- maybe he should try a bit harder with Severa-- but ultimately that wasn’t what he was here to accomplish.  


“I mean, yeah Inigo.” Cynthia shrugged. “I thought you knew that.”  


“Do you?”  


“What do you mean by--”  


“You two are in love. With each other. And by your own admission it is heroic. Figure it out.” Inigo hurries off before the bomb he just dropped explodes.  


“WHAT?” Cynthia shouts.  


After a moment, Owain bursts out laughing. There was no way Cynthia liked him, so it was time to do damage control.  


“That was some attempt to break up the justice cabal huh?” Cynthia felt her heart sink like a stone.  


“Yup. Just another way Inigo tries to make fun of us.”  


Neither could ever admit that Inigo was right about them, because he was oh so wrong about the other.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain and Cynthia were quick-- often too quick for the eye to follow, and Gaius’ eye was pretty damn fast. He pulled out his fifth or sixth sucker (he’d lost count) left with nothing but a stick and replaced it.  


“Super Squishy Sky Smash!” Cynthia Shouts. Gaius realized his daughter has a thing for alliterative attack names by training her. And of course Owain…  


“Sword hand Slash of righteous fury and indignation!” Owain loved to extend his out. Sumia leaned over to whisper in her husband’s ear.  


“That was a triple corkscrew thrust… It takes years to perfect, and I’ve never seen one pulled off with multiple riders before…” Sumia snorts a bit. “Super Squishy?”  


“Shhh…” Gaius is watching… very seriously. This sort of skill only comes through intense training and necessity. He would never allow his daughter to be this good at this young of an age… What happened to him?  


Sumia takes Gaius’ hand.  


“I know… but we can protect her now.” Sumia rests her head on Gaius’ shoulder.  


“Is it enough? It’s as if she doesn’t know anything about me sometimes. I’m worried.” Gaius pulls out his lolly. “I’m worried that she never even knew me.””  


“Well that doesn’t matter either.” Sumia assures him.  


“What has she gone through that I couldn’t protect her from?” Gaius stands… watching.  


Gaius knows necessity. He has been a thief all his life. Stealing was more than just a side gig for him to get sweets, he grew up impoverished. Food was a struggle to get access to, sweet treats? Forget it. The first time he stole a sweet, he felt this sense of victory-- he just had a taste of what only bluebloods could get. But the first time he stole in general? Was because he was starving. He got good at picking pockets and locks because he had to.  


His sweet tooth represented more than just a harmless indulgence. It represented how far he had come as a human being. He didn’t need to steal to survive anymore. He was in a better place now. He wondered what the representation of that for Cynthia was?  


How did she show that she had become better than where she was? Was it a situation of Her progress of a warrior? The fact she was here? ...The fact she could see her father again? He needed to talk to her. This level of skill was founded in desperation, and he needed to assure her that she didn’t need that anymore. That her Daddy would protect her…  


What happened to him that caused him not to be able to protect her?

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Cynthia was getting ready for bed. Another day of training. Why did her heart hurt so much? The fact that Owain laughed off even the idea of them being together? That… wasn’t a problem.  


It was as if Inigo saw through everything this morning. Her facade, her laughter, straight through to the realization that she had only just made herself. She was in love with Owain. And Owain saw the potential truth, saw the possibility, and laughed at it. She was… exhausted. She tried to take her mind off it in training, which worked for a while, until she remembered the eternal presence of her crush seated right behind her. She had to work twice as hard for something that normally came naturally to her. All because she still heard Owain’s laughter bouncing around in her head like a bad song that she couldn’t get rid of.  


She heard a knock on her tent post.  


“Who is it?” She attempted to sound her cheerful self.  


“It’s me.” Gaius’ voice responded. Her father.  


“Come on in.” She tried to smile. It didn’t reach her heart.  
Gaius saw her, this young woman who was truly still a mystery to him. Like her mother in so many ways. A cheerful, bubbly ball of fluff as sweet of cinnamon with this omnipresent, underlying sadness to her. He needed to know that side that was such a mystery. He needed to know his daughter.  


“We need to talk about a couple of things Cynthia. And… I want you to be honest.” Gaius sits next to her, placing a hand on her hair so like his own.  


“Sure Dad! Anything!” Cynthia nodded.  


“How do I die? In your timeline?”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Nineteen Years ago/Two years later:

There it was. That infernal laughing. Mocking them for their attempt at escape. This beast would kill them all if Gaius didn’t do something. He saw Cherche and Libra go down in a ball of flames already. They were next if he didn’t do something. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let Sumia die. She was hiding the fact that she was pregnant, but you couldn’t exactly hide the fact that you are throwing up every morning. He was going to be a father. He was going to have a baby. She was...  


That raised the stakes ever higher. He had to come up with something, or else his child was dead before it even got a chance to live. He was stressed. He saw an opening. He looked at Sumia-- the love of his life, his wife, his heart.  


“Take care of the baby for me.” He told her.  


Then he jumped on the back of Grima herself.  


He stabbed and kicked and fought and distracted, every effort as useless as the last, until he couldn’t see Sumia in the distance anymore. He closed his eyes and smiled… He smiled even as a claw found its way through his chest cavity. A gasp… He felt the darkness closing in around him. He weakly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sucker… he dropped it. He couldn’t… hold… The darkness was closing in… he felt the claw remove itself, numbly processed the hole the size of the fire emblem in his chest. He closed his eyes again.  


“At least they got… Away…” He gasped weakly.  


“For now…” Was the rumbling response-- the last thing he heard.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“You died so Mom could escape with me… and… Mom called it the worst mistake you ever made.” Cynthia says, steadily looking at the ground. “So many other shepherds died that day, and Grima almost caught up to her anyway, but… Grima couldn’t fly outside of Plegia yet. Her powers were too weak. Mom always said she could have escaped with you, and that we could have been a family together…” Cynthia felt the tears stinging her eyes, and her father’s arms around her.  


“Why did you have to die Daddy?” She sobbed out.  


“I’m here now… It’s going to be Okay. I’m going to protect you.” Gaius placed his chin atop the crown of her head.  


“Sacrificing yourself is pointless… It’s the last heroic thing you ever do. Heroism isn’t a sudden flash, it’s an ongoing job being dependable in saving people.” Cynthia said in the way she had said time and time again-- her heroing philosophy that countered Owain’s. “If you aren’t there to rescue someone when they need it, then you aren’t a great hero at all…  


“That sort of thinking is bound to petrify you.” Gaius comments. “You can’t let fear of death, of loss petrify you from who you want to be.” Gaius sighs. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”  


“Don’t be afraid of loss?” Cynthia looks up at him. “I lost you before I was born. I lost Mom before I was ten. I am used to loss at this point. I just don’t want to lose Owain too…”  


“Is Owain what this is really about? Why you’re sad?”  


Cynthia nods…  


“I… I think I’m in love with him Dad.” Gaius sighs.  


“And he doesn’t like you back?”  


“He laughed at the idea when Inigo brought it up… It’s a joke to him.” Cynthia sniffs.  


“I’m sorry baby girl.”  


“It could be worse… at least I have you Dad…”  


“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter, we lose something important.


	5. The Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: Oh hey Chekhov! Where did you get that gun?  
> Le Him: Yes. You shouldn’t be playing with guns Chekhov.  
> Le Me: No, no. That was a joke for people who know What Chekhov’s gun is. The Owain and Cynthia Variety Show! Now with homework!  
> Le Him: I know what it is. He’s holding it. And we should run.  
> Le Me: Lemme just post this first…

9 years ago/ 11 years later

Cynthia was thrown off for the fifty first time today. Her white feathered steed whinnied in acknowledgement. As if it wasn’t her fault.  
She picked herself up and dusted off her brand new pegasus knight uniform. Usually prospective knights didn’t start training until fourteen. Cynthia didn’t have five years to wait for that arbitrary number. She had to become a hero NOW.  


She approached her mother’s pegasus… her mother’s… Cadea probably missed Mom as much as she did! This revelation stops her in her tracks. … Cadea was probably waiting for Mom to ride her! “I’m not Mom…” Cynthia thought. “I’m not her, but I have to ride Cadea. I have to be a hero.”  


Cynthia extends a hand to Cadea’s muzzle.  


“Cadea? ...Mom’s dead. We… have to accept that. We have to move on from that.” Cynthia feels tears coming down her face. “I want to become a hero. A hero so that Mom and Dad might be proud of me. You understand, don’t you?” Cadea huffed in that way only pegasi can huff. The way that shows their listening even if they couldn’t possibly understand. “You have to let me ride you so that Mom and Dad can be proud of me…” Cynthia felt hot streaks run down her cheeks. “I want to be a hero, but I can’t be heroic without you, okay?” She manages to sob out. Cadea approaches her and headbutts her lightly.  


Cynthia can’t help but laugh at this display, this display so intrinsically tied with her that it may as well have been her name. Ever since she was a baby, Cadea would only headbutt her like that, just like she rested her head on Mom’s shoulder. Cadea was a smart pegasus. She knew exactly who she was looking at. And Cynthia, as per usual when Cadea did that, stroked her mane for a good two minutes. Cadea was a snuggler. Cynthia knew that. Cynthia knew this animal as if she were her own. And Cynthia would know her even better once Cadea finally let her ride.  


The fifty second time she mounted, she was not thrown. Nor was she thrown intentionally any time after that.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

 

What is the most important thing for a hero? Is it money, power, a philosophy, a goal? Perhaps for those who ride alone into battle wearing mysterious masks. But for those who ride into battle with other heroes, it is them. Yes, them. The man beside you and behind you. The one who’s back you watch, and those who watch your back. You lose them, and often you lose yourself. Spiraling out of control with nothing to catch you.  


So it is with a pegasus knight’s pegasus.  


They say only the purest of maidens will be accepted to ride these mounts. They used to believe it was because of a virginal status, but after the Caedea of legend became queen and continued riding into her old age, this was largely disproven. This was only affirmed with the efforts of Est-- the youngest of Macedon’s whitewings-- marrying Abel and continuing her work as well.  


More studies found that these animals had vast emotional and social intelligence equal to or surpassing humans. And that the bond between Pegasai and rider is a lifelong pact-- as long as the other lives, they are true. No one is quite certain on how these pacts are formed, but they exist nonetheless.  


Pegasai being as rare commodity as they are, and the fact pegasi choose their knights, often if a Pegasi is killed the knight is left mountless-- grounded-- for the rest of their days. Not to mention the sudden loss of a steadfast companion. Sadly, the suicide rate for Pegasus knights who lost their Pegasai is staggering. For what more can one lose when losing a pegasus? A friend, a livelihood, a layer of freedom, and an identity all wrapped up into a singular animal. So do not think it hyperbolic when this is stated: The worst possible thing-- worse than death-- to a pegasus knight, is the loss of their wings.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The Shepherds were back on mainland Valm. The campaign against Walhart had stagnated, both sides shying from a direct engagement with the other. So Robin decided to take this time to investigate some rumors about future children. Now they were hearing word of a man in Wyvern Valley wearing a mask. Cherche insisted they head that way immediately.  


On the way, the shepherds passed through the sage village that Owain had found his legendary blade in a mere week ago. Which was awfully ironic because…  


“Cynthia! I can’t find Missletainn.” Owain looked panicked.  


“Then get another from the weapon supply and name that one.” Cynthia sighed, brushing out Cadea’s feathers as she did every day. This happened regularly. Inigo or Severa would steal Owain’s named blade, and then he would panic for a few days before they returned it.  


“It isn’t the same Cynthia!”  


“It’ll turn back up Owain. It always does.” Cynthia grabs the bucket of oats that she gives Cadea every morning.  


“But what if it doesn’t turn back up this time?”  


“Just ask Inigo and Severa if they took it. They just do it because you freak out.” Cynthia begins filling Cadea’s water.  


“I’m not freaking out!” Owain flails.  


“Calm down.”  


“I am not a hero without my implement of justice!” Owain does a forlorn pose. “My existence is questionable without Missletainn… Without my blade, how can I possibly survive the machinations of the wicked?”  


“How did you survive before? You were actually better off without that butter knife anyway. Are you trying to give your enemies a handicap?” That’s actually pretty heroic. No question. If he fights this well with a stick, imagine what he could do to you with a real sword…  


“Cynthia! You would mock Missletainn as well?”  


“A legendary weapon should be able to cut something. Anything.”  


“Missletainn was mostly ceremonial?”  


“It looks like it was dragged from the garbage.” Cynthia rolls her eyes.  


“Fine… I attacked an entire group of bandits on my own in hopes of getting my hands on a legendary weapon, but when there wasn’t one I took that blade to save face.” Owain explained.  


“That sounds like the equivalent of me calling the Exalt ‘Fake Chrom’ for two weeks after you found me.”  


“That seems extremely stupid.” Owain comments.  


“A real hero admits their mistakes.” Cynthia sighs. “How can you grow if you’re perfect?”  


“A real hero doesn’t make mistakes, they have flaws.”  


“Oh here we go.”  


“From a narrative perspective, if a hero miscalculates it is seen as a flaw in the narrative. But if the hero miscalculates because of a deep seated character flaw, it is seen as good storytelling.”  


“This isn’t a story. Heroes are human. You can’t grow as a human or a hero if you don't admit your mistakes.”  


“But without a macguffin, how can I consider myself a true hero?”  


“Heroes aren’t just poses and stories and entrances and names of power… That without the true nature brings about the illusion of a hero. Heroes are about content of character, and the willingness to act upon it. Not whether or not they have a legendary blade of legend or if they have some mystical force tempting or guiding them.” Cynthia finishes with Cadea.  


“Huh…” Owain considers that.  


“Now. Are we marching together or…”  


“Gaius said he needed to talk to me. And then both of our mothers wanted to have girl talk or something like that with you.” Owain shrugs. “And honestly, sometimes I don’t even want to know what my Dad is doing.”  


“I don’t want to know either.” Cynthia agreed. “And thanks for reminding me. ...I forgot about girl march.”  


“Meet after for dinner?” Owain gives her that smile that makes her want to scream with joy even though she knew it was completely platonic. “I hear that Noire is cooking tonight.”  


“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Cynthia felt herself die a bit on the inside.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“Sumia, do you even have to ask? I am Chrom’s sister. I have so much dirt on him that they could make a land bridge back home with it.” Sumia and Lissa were chuckling together. Cynthia was looking ahead to where Owain was talking with her father. They looked serious.  


“Cynthia, are you okay?” Sumia put a hand on her daughter’s back.  


“Yup! Just peachy! What were we talking about?” Cynthia nodded too quickly.  


“Lissa has fun stories about Chrom.”  


“It isn’t very heroic to gossip behind people’s backs…” Cynthia purses her lips. “I know all about that feeling.”  


“It’s not a problem. Chrom needs to be knocked down a couple pegs sometimes. And it’s my job as his sister to do it!”  


“I still don’t like gossiping behind people’s backs…”  


“Would you prefer we talk about Owain?” Cynthia must have gotten pretty red, because Lissa laughed good naturedly.  


“Can we please not talk about boys?” Cynthia seemed subdued for once… Something that neither of the women had ever seen in her before.  


“Cynthia…” Sumia started. “Is something wrong?”  


“Nope!” As soon as the moment came, it went. Like a mirage in the deserts of Plegia. “How about heroic entrances? What is the most heroic thing you can think of saying when going onto the battlefield?” Lissa, knowing her son, and figuring Cynthia was similar, played along immediately.  


“My Rod hand hungers…” Oh sweet Naga… “It hungers to cure the fallen! I--”  


“Please. PLEASE never say rod hand again.” Cynthia said with her palm cradling her face.  


“Wut wh-- oh. That’s not what I meant!” Lissa’s face is burning.  


“Perhaps save that sort of talk for Henry?” Sumia suggests.  


“Well if you’re such an expert, you go next.” Lissa crosses her arms.  


“Uh… Um… Erm… Beware evildo--”  


“Weak.” Lissa interrupts. “At least I was confident in my delivery. I should know. Owain has been coaching me.” Without her permission or agreement. She just guessed it was how Owain showed he cared.  


“It’s high noon?” Sumia asks rather than announces.  


“If you’re going to plagiarize, at least be sure of yourself while doing it.” Lissa said, thinking Chrom said that once. Or was that a dream?  


“My turn!” Cynthia bursts, then immediatly regathers composure. "I am the hope of the universe. I am the answer to all living things that cry out for peace. I am the protecter of the innocent. I am the light in the darkness. I am truth. ALLY TO GOOD! NIGHTMARE TO YOU" The last part was loud. Sumia’s ears were ringing.  


“Ow…”  


“Woah!” The three women turn to see a little boy from the village nearby looking at them with starry eyes. “You are real life heroes!”  


“Yup” Cynthia nods. The other women are agast.  


“Can I feed your bird horses?” The little boy holds up an apple.  


“No.” Cynthia laughs. “I appreciate it, but it is very important that a pegasus only eats what her knight gives it.”  


“Awww… Are you sure?” The little boy brings the apple close to Cynthia’s Cadea. Cynthia has to physically stop Cadea from eating it.  


“Positive. Sorry. You can pet her though!”  


“Really?” The little boy begins stroking the animal’s mane. Cynthia feels Cadea tense up, then relax underneath her.  


“Wow…” The little boy says in awe. “I’m gonna go get Sylvie!” The little boy rushes off.  


All three of them chuckle at this, unaware of the coming storm.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The first thing Gaius did when Owain approached them on their march was hand Missletainn back to him.  


“I sharpened it a bit. It needed it.” Gaius chuckles. “Falchion it is not.”  


“It is Missletainn!”  


“That’s great and all, but a dull sword doesn’t kill cleanly. It kills painfully.” Gaius shakes his head. “Don’t take you for a sadist, Poser.”  


“A hero does not enjoy the pain of others.” Owain nods decisively.  


“Then what are you doing to my daughter?” Owain feels his heart stop in his chest.  


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  


“You probably don’t.” Gaius sighs. “Which makes it that much worse. You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re flopping around like a drunk cripple. Honestly harmless, but it still hurts to watch.”  


“What part of me is crippled?”  


“Your brain, poser.”  


“Okay, ouch.” Owain winces.  


“What part of my daughter’s actions haven’t made it painfully obvious that she is in love with you?”  


“She doesn’t.”  


“Two hours of crying before bed about you laughing Inigo off say otherwise.” Gaius deadpans. ...He isn’t kidding.  


“W--... She confided in you?”  


“Yup.”  
“And you’re telling me?”  


“Yup.”  


“That’s not heroic at all!”  


“Never claimed to be a hero, Poser.” Gaius sighs. “Look. I don’t know what your intentions with her are, and honestly I don’t care. But if you hurt her in some irreparable way, I will hurt you in an irreparable way. Clear?”  


“Crystal.” Owain gulps.  


“Now. I have a feeling that won’t be necessary, because it looks like you have feelings for her as well.”  


“You can’t prove anything.” Owain crosses his arms.  


“I don’t have to. ...Just know that I think you and my daughter are good for each other.” Gaius sighs. “It feels so weird saying that before Sumia is even pregnant.”  


“I understand.” Owain is overwhelmed.  


“If you need any support on this, you have mine. I’d rather have my daughter make a mistake with you, someone who actually cares about her than some guy who doesn’t. And believe me, relationships are mistakes.”  


“I am not sure if Sumia would be happy to hear you say that.” Owain chuckles weakly.  


“That was a happy mistake.” Gaius shrugs. “Just be sure to make a mistake with someone willing to accept you for who you are. Like I said, you are the best person I see around for my daughter. Or else you would be dead right now. I am classed as an assassin right now.”  


Owain isn’t sure if he is joking or not.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Cynthia was legitimately feeling better.  


It doesn’t matter what Owain did. He didn’t know. He couldn’t have known that it would hurt her… he was just trying to keep things the same. Perhaps that was the best thing. Keeping superhero partners superhero partners, and looking for a relationship somewhere else! It seemed silly to expect anything profound and meaningful from Owain when it came to relationships… his whole lone wolf hero backstory improvisational act thing stems from the fact that he doesn’t know how to deal with people well. He can’t accept putting effort in and then coming up with nothing. He has to take something out of everything he does, even if it’s a rusty letter opener. He doesn’t deal with criticism well, and he is prone to glorifying death in a way that often made her feel uncomfortable.  


She loved him anyway.  


What was it about him? Was it the fact they worked so well with one another? Was it him smiling at her when she presented herself as a hero, standing alongside her while everyone else mocked and ridiculed? Was it so much shared experience? ...She needed to talk to someone who wasn’t her Dad about this. Inigo wouldn’t understand. He feels deeply and quickly too often to possibly understand. Noire was probably too timid to speak her mind. Laurent would probably use words she didn’t understand. Lucina was just as clueless about love and relationships as she was. That was everyone here right now… Brady probably could have given her good advice… or Nah… There is one more person, and she might be willing to help her…  


And coincidentally her tent is something she just passed by.  


Backtracking twenty feet, Cynthia knocked on Severa’s tent post.  


One look, and Severa could see that Cynthia was troubled by something. Severa was an asshole admittedly, but not so much of an asshole to ignore the perpetually peppy puppy that was Cynthia when she needed help. Even if they were “eternal rivals” or whatever annoying pegasus plop.  


“Well?” Severa asked. “Are you coming in or not?”  


“Right.” Cynthia closed the tent flap. The interior of Severa’s tent was as gaudy as possibly justifiable during wartime. It made Cynthia smile softly. The wars may change, and the dimensions may shift, but Severa would always be Severa.  


“So? Out with it.” Severa continued to brush her hair.  


“What is love?” Cynthia prompts. Severa blinks a couple of times, and picks up a steaming cup off of the ground.  


“Hold on, I haven’t drank enough coffee for philosophical bullshit this early in the morning.” Severa takes a long draw. “Okay, explain the question.”  


“How do you know you’re in love rather than it just being a petty crush?” Cynthia looks down.  


“It’s a good thing you came to me with this and not Inigo. He mistakes the desire of lust for the emotion of love. But what made you think I would know?”  


“You just… know more about other people and relationships than anyone else I know.” Cynthia shrugs. Severa beams with pride.  


“Are you admitting I’m better than you at something?”  


“This was a mistake.” Cynthia gets up to leave.  


“I’ll give you my definition really quick.” Severa holds up a finger. “Since you asked so nicely.”  


“Sure. I’ll hear you out.”  


“Of course you will.” Severa looks excited about being recognized as the best choice by anyone for anything more than wanting to help her friend. “You’re the one who approached me. Take your best friend. Someone who you know their pros and cons, and still don’t mind spending a lot of time with.”  


“Alright…” Sounds like Owain so far.  


“Do you want to fuck this person?” Severa bluntly says, taking another sip of her coffee. Cynthia immediately blushes.  


“I… um… haven’t really thought of it as… lewdly as that. I do find them attractive.”  


“That wasn’t the question. The question was, do you want to have sweaty, no holds barred, grabby, loud, sex with them?” Severa smirked at the sight of Cynthia squirming with discomfort in front of her.  


“Why did you have to go and make things weird?”  


“Just answer the question.”  


“Y-y-you answer first!” Cynthia deflects.  


“Fine. I will. Because I’m going to be an adult about this. I want to do that sort of thing with Inigo, but he is not my personality type. We clash too much. Plus not to mention the whole skirt chasing thing. That is lust. Not love.” Cynthia nods at this explanation.  


“Okay…”  


“With you, I find you annoying, arrogant sometimes,” Severa was one to call people arrogant. “But at least you’re trying to do and be the right thing. I appreciate that. I don’t mind having competitions with you because… you’re a great person to be around, and I have fun with you.”  


“I didn’t know you felt that way…”  


“Tell anyone and I’ll use your spine for jump rope.” Severa threatens. “However, I don’t want to have sex with you. You’re like my sister. And the idea of touching your body like that… quite frankly it disgusts me.” Severa shakes her head. “I love you, but it isn’t romantic love. Not without the lust aspect of things.”  


“We can do another competition sometime if you want.” Cynthia suggests. “Whenever we stop marching for the day maybe?”  


“I’d like that. Anyway, as for someone who I am in love with? Hrm… Noire is my best friend, but I know she is very straight.”  


“Wait, what?”  


“Did you not know I was bi Cynthia?” Severa cocks her head.  


“No.” Cynthia’s face is burning now.  


“I already told you my feelings about you. So don’t make things weird.” Severa sighs. “Don’t make the same mistake Noire did and assume that just because I am attracted to girls that I am attracted to you.”  


“Okay.” Cynthia smiles. That was a relief. They were on the same page.  


“Now Lucina on the other hand, I enjoy spending time with, and I want to do wonderful, unspeakable things to her body.” Severa chuckles evilly. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better. That’s what dating is. Now with you and Owain, you’ve been practically dating for nine years now, so you could probably make the jump into marriage now if you really wanted to.”  


“Wha--”  


“I assume we are talking about Owain.” Severa shrugs. “That’s my advice. Allow your thoughts to turn to the dark side for a teensy bit to decide if you want to have sex with him, and if you do, pursue that shit like your life depends on it. Understand?”  


“Yeah… That was helpful. I think?” Cynthia stands up.  


“I enjoyed this talk.” Severa smirks.  


“I’m sure you did.” Cynthia chuckles and leaves the tent.  


Cynthia doesn’t take Severa’s advice here. She shrugs it off. The idea was a bit scary, and Owain already made it clear that he wants to stay friends. Why have things change? Things were great the way they were now! Change is intimidating. She wanted the Justice Cabal to stay the same forever.  


And that was the exact moment things changed forever.  


Owain came running up to her.  


“I went to the pegasus stalls to look for you. When I got there, you weren’t there yet, and Cadea wasn’t responding.”  


“What are you saying?”  


“I think Cadea is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Look at that. Something for actual character growth. Don’t see that every day.


	6. Grounded in the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le me: Aw man. Midterms.  
> Le him: They hit you as hard as this is gonna hit Cynthia?  
> Le Me: Wutt?  
> Le him: Nothing.  
> Le Me: Let’s just keep torturing Cynthia.  
> Le Him: SO YOU DO KNOW WHAT YOUR DOING!

Cynthia was numb. There was no avoiding it. Her pegasus was unavoidably and inescapably dead. Limp. Cold. Broken. Lifeless. Cynthia just couldn’t move her eyes away from her. This wasn’t the first time she saw death. The cold heartless aftermath was nothing new to her. She had seen hundreds of dead bodies, dozens of her friends, and her friends parents die right in front of her. It never got any better. Just numb.  


Owain was saying something. She isn’t quite sure what it is. What is he saying? He seems to be very emphatic about whatever it is. Cynthia feels warm wet stuff on her cheeks. 

She’s opening her mouth… Wait her throat hurts.  


And then everything sprang back into pain all at once.  


Owain was shaking her. Hard. Her voice was pained and hoarse and broken. The smell of death and pegasus shit filled the air. Shepherds were running out of their tents haphazardly, half dressed, half stumbling into the mid dawn chill to see a heart wrenching scene.  


Owain’s arms are wrapped around her tight, as if his embrace is the only thing tying her to this plane of existence. A dead Pegasi is always a tragedy. Such a pure and noble creature should not be tainted by even the idea of death, but when the scene is accompanied by hoarse screams and gagging sobs...  


Owain felt every bit of the gut wrenching pain that Cynthia was going through. He never really thought about it, but Cadea was the omnipresent third member of the justice cabal. Cadea never let him on her back without Cynthia, but she had this way of acknowledging him. She raised her hoof a bit and shook her head a bit. Cadea was his friend too. He already missed her.  


Not to mention that seeing Cynthia broken like this, broke him inside as well. Her sobs and screams were like daggers thrown into his skin. Daggers that wormed and crawled their way inch by inexorable inch into his heart. Owain never wanted to see her like this. Never wanted to see this grief.  


Owain’s eyes were dead, shiny, fear filled orbs. He was scared for Cynthia-- that he may have waited too long to tell her. He could have told her at dinner last night instead of planning their next entrances. He had a chance to tell her that… he loved her too, but now she wouldn’t stop screaming no matter how much he tried to comfort her. He could always comfort her. But no matter how tight his arms wrapped around her, no matter how hard he rocked her, it was as if he wasn’t there. He wasn’t sure if she could get back to the way she was, and that scared him. Scared him more than Grima herself.  


Henry saw all of this and knew he could fix it. If the death of the Pegasi hurt her so much, then he could just bring her back to life! He couldn’t ignore her crying. Not only was she a cawmerade… Tee Hee, but she was probably his future daughter in law! Plus she sounded exactly like he did on the day his wolf pack died! They were practicawly birds of a feather. Henry learned a special spell, and decided to use it next time he saw an important animal friend go the way of his furry family. That way… no one would have to end up like him.  


When Cadea began to twitch, the first one to notice it was Owain. He nudged Cynthia, who was dry heaving in the fetal position next to Cadea. She looked over. Cadea was standing.  
Cynthia jumped up. “Cadea!” Then alarm bells began to go off in her head. Cadea’s eyes were dark brown-- like her own. The eyes that peered at her were a deep red. Cadea didn't seem to recognize her either, she didn’t headbutt her like she usually did…  


Owain was familiar with this curse. His father had brought his dog, Soren back to life with it. Soren tried to rip his throat out within the first thirty seconds of it being cast…  


“Dad! Deactivate the curse! Now!” He was now staring in the eye of a Soren with cloven hooves, and that could fly. Cloven hooves that he had seen not a week earlier burst a man’s skull.  


Owain pulled Cynthia out of the way just in time, pegasi jaws coming down where Cynthia’s throat was. A purple, malignant aura was now coming off the steed in waves.  
What his father had essentially done was take the basic magic used to create Risen, and had adjusted it so that it could bring animals back. As Risen.  
The thing that was once Cadea kicked up it’s hooves. Owain stepped in front of Cynthia. He saw stars as a hoof grazed his temple. He collapsed to the ground.  
Time slowed around Cynthia. Cadea was about to take a bite out of Owain. But Cadea was alive! No, Cadea was dead. Cynthia’s eyes fell upon her lance. No matter what she was now, she couldn’t kill Cadea! But Owain would die. She couldn’t kill her! Cadea’s head snapped back, preparing to lunge forward. … IF YOU DON’T MOVE, OWAIN IS DEAD! DEAD! LIKE YOUR PARENTS! EXCEPT THIS TIME THERE IS NO TURNING BACK THE CLOCK TO FIX IT! MOVE!  
Cynthia grabs her lance, spins it in her hands, and lunges. She trips in the process, but the spearhead goes through the eye of the Pegasi formerly known as Cadea. She begins evaporating in purple smoke. Cynthia falls atop Owain.

 

The world moved in a blur around Cynthia. Lissa pulling Owain up, Maribelle pulling her. Maribelle was moving her lips, but what she was saying didn’t matter. Cadea was dead, and she killed her.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

A few hours later, Maribelle pulled the same boy from the village in front of the unresponsive Cynthia.  


“What do you have to say for yourself you brute?”  


“I is sorry, I is sorry! I dinna know tha an apple woul kill the bird horse! I feed me horse apples all tha time, an it don do no harm as long as yah only give em one or two.”  
“Well evidently it did do harm! Look at her! She’s been like this ever since she found her pegasus dead in her stall!” Marribelle harumphs. “This isn’t a problem you can apologize your way out o--”  


“I forgive him.” Cynthia says, looking down at her hands. “The boy just wanted to give Cadea a treat.” Cynthia sighs. “If we started executing people for ignorance, I would be the first to die.” Cynthia looks up… tears are streaming down her face. “Besides. Ultimately Cadea’s blood is on my hands. Not his.”  


“What are you talking about Cynthia? You merely did what was necessary. Virion and Noire couldn’t line up a clear shot with the crowd in the way, else they would have done much the same.”  


Cynthia doesn’t respond. Maybe she can’t respond.  


“Cynthia? Are you alright?”  


Again, no response. The boy runs out of the tent while Maribelle is distracted. Cynthia is lost in her own thoughts once more.  
So much of her identity was wrapped up in being a pegasus knight. Hell, even her name contained the word Wing in it. Wing of Justice. How can she have that name if she doesn’t have wings to fly on? The ground was cruel to her. She was clumsy there. Prone to falling and failing. But up there? She was a powerful warrior. She could strike down enemies who threatened her allies from above-- she was at her most heroic flying through the skies. Without that… what was Cynthia.  


A clumsy, stupid, naive, helpless, worthless, shadow of a hero. A shell. She can’t be heroic without her pegasus. Everything that she is-- Everything that she was was because of her. And now that she was dead, she is nothing. This wasn’t a matter of getting back on the saddle. Now that there isn’t a saddle to get back on…

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The last person she wanted to see right now, but the person she needed to walked into the tent. Owain. He was silent. Looking seriously at her, steadfast, silent. And she wasn’t going to speak first. But no words needed to be said. Owain helped to lift her to her feet. Cynthia didn’t want to move, moving was so painful and mundane without Cadea, but she saw his eyes. His eyes were afraid. He needed her. Why, she could not know, but Owain needed her.  


Owain was still worried. She wasn’t speaking, she wasn’t moving on her own, but when he moved her, she followed. Maribelle could not say the same. They were breaking camp. Heading straight for Wyvern Valley. Owain Knew that Robin was probably counting on every flier she had, and the loss of Cynthia was scrambling her plan, but his concerns grew far beyond those of his aunt. He needed Cynthia to be okay. This wasn’t a matter of finding her, this was a matter of losing her. A prospect that seemed all the more real to him.  


They began to march. Everytime Cynthia was about to trip, Owain caught her. Every time she stopped for a break, Owain was there. Every moment, every silent painful moment was accompanied by the presence of Owain. You could call Owain many things. Prone to flights of fancy, dangerously so. Annoying, set in his ways, vain, and demonstrative, but one thing he was not was a fair weather friend.  


Many visited Cynthia and Owain, but Cynthia rarely spoke. Many offering condolences for her grief, assurances that what could be done would be. But the only one that got a response out of her was very illuminating to her current state of mind.  


That person was Robin. Her hair frazzled, her eyes dull from lack of sleep, but still moving with the speed and tenacity of someone with twice her apparent energy.  


“I think it goes without saying that Cynthia is going to be staying away from battle for a while.” Robin says. “But what about you Owain?”  


Owain considers this momentarily.  


“I am needed more here than there.” Robin nods in agreement.  


“Admittedly, without her you are just another swordsman. But here you may be the only one who can help Cynthia.” Robin nods thoughtfully.  


“She is strong. Just as heroic as me, if not more so. She just needs time. She lost something important.” Robin nods in agreement.  


“Let me know if you two need anything. Hopefully we can locate a pegasus while we are at Wyvern Valley as well. Cherche said there are at least a few there.”  


“Pegasi in Wyvern Valley?”  


“I was just as surprised as you are. Apparently they are very similar to our pegasi, except they are black.” Robin waves. “Again, let me know. Bit busy right now, but I’ll be back!”  


“I don’t deserve a new pegasi.” Cynthia mutters. Owain purses his lips in response to that.  


“You deserve more than a fate like this. Retiring due to a pegasus dying of food poisoning? That’s the heroic equivalent of dying in the outhouse.” Cynthia did a little exhale laugh, so it must have done something. But no response other than that. Did that mean she was getting better?  


They walked in silence for a while longer.  


“Are you going to stop fighting Cynthia?” Owain prompts.  


“What else can I do? I am nothing without Cadea.” They walked in silence for a while longer, Owain trying to come up with the perfect thing to say.  


A wise woman once told me: Heroes aren’t just poses and stories and entrances and names of power… That without the true nature brings about the illusion of a hero.” Cynthia looked up at him, immediately realizing what he was doing. “Heroes are about content of character, and the willingness to act upon it. Not whether or not they have a legendary blade of legend, or if they have some mystical force tempting or guiding them, or even if they have a winged horse… It’s about who you are… Whether or not you are willing to continue on despite hardship. And in that regard, you are my hero Cynthia.” Cynthia sighs in response.  


“You thought you could just repeat what I said back to me and make everything better?”  


“No. I said it so that you would keep going.” Owain nudges her. “It’s what heroes do.”  


Owain thought long and hard about kissing her in that moment. He decided not to. The moment wasn’t right, and he didn’t want her glomming onto him merely to fill a hole in her grief. If what Gaius said was true, she would still love her in a month when the pain was less fresh. He would wait until he was absolutely sure that she was in love with him.  


Cynthia did not have such qualms. Losing Cadea was something that put this situation with Owain into perspective. If she didn’t act and just let another girl take him, then she would lose him too. He was all she had left. If Owain died and just left her here alone? If he started to distance himself? She might actually break.  


Cynthia pushed herself onto Owain, her lips meeting his in a clumsy attempt at kissing. It was toothy, nosey, they bumped foreheads a couple of times. It was desperate, awkward, gasping, sobbing, finally, finally, finally! It was signifying something greater. Signing not that she was okay, but that she would recover. She would recover from this changed, but not broken by any means. With the help she always had, but with new meaning.  


Now that there was admission, they could finally be true partners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay. Now we can actually get started.


	7. Growing new Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: God… Summer Semester is no joke. I think I’m about to have a stroke from how busy I am.  
> Le Him: Hey dude! How is the variety show going?  
> Le Me: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU--  
> They then spent the rest of the Friday making sure it got out on time.

Cynthia and Owain were sneaking around battlefield Wyvern. The bandits obviously had no idea what they were doing. Noire and Virion were having a field day, but Gaius and Lon’qu weren’t doing too bad either. An absolute slaughter. Owain and Cynthia decided that it would be good to find the pegasi. They found something they weren’t bargaining for.  


One of the bandits had caught a beautiful black sheened and feathered mount caught under a net. Cynthia did not hesitate. She charged out.  


“YOU!” She swings her lance around, and bonks herself on the head. “Ow…” The bandit looks extremely confused. Cynthia starts to charge, then falls flat on her face. Owain exits from the bushes beside her.  


“Let me take care of this Cynthia?” Owain asks.  


Cynthia makes a muffled affirmative noise. Owain charges in, and kills the man in one stroke of his sword. Too easy.  


“Another victory for Owain Dark! We have secured this mighty new potential member for the Justice cabal! Look upon our might, and despair villains. For we are coming for you next!” Cynthia pops up next to him. “Yeah!”  


The Pegasus was extremely confused. Were they talking to him? They must be. There was no one else here. He couldn’t understand them though… Maybe they were going to let him out of this fucking net?  


“We have to name her… Pala?”  


“Um… Cynthia?”  


“No that's my name, silly. Perhaps Est… Or Florina?”  


“Perhaps something different?”  


“Well, it’s tradition to name pegasi after riders of the past… Phila maybe?”  


“It’s a male pegasus.”  


“WHAT? Huh… so it is.” Very much male. Yup… “Well now I can’t name him after the riders of the past.” Cynthia sighs as her beaux rubs his hands together.  


“Darkwing.” Owain does a pose. Arm outstretched towards the sky.  


“I’m not a darkwing type of gal, you know?” Cynthia giggles. “Plus, if I’m the wing of justice…”  


“There must be a wing of darkness. Of Malice to balance out your good intent. The shadow to your wing of justice. One who follows closely, with all the power but none of the good intentions…”  


“I thought that was you, Owain.” Cynthia says. Owain sniffs.  


“That is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Cynthia kisses Owain on the cheek. He beams back at her. The pegasus is beginning to tramp in frustration.  
Oi. Lovebirds. You can canoodle later. He has a fucking net on him! Do they not notice the net?  


They aren’t going to let him go are they?  


No. That’s fine. That’s fucking fine. He just wanted some oats. That’s all he fucking wanted. He didn’t ask for a net to get all tangled in his feathers! Oh… oh no… a couple are broken… his poor beautiful feathers…  


The girl seemed to notice his plight. She was walking towards him. Oh, so now she wants to let him out after nuzzling her beau for a bit? Excuse him while he barfs. ...Does she have fucking oats in her hand?  


The pegasus attempts to eat the oats as passive aggressively as possible. Is it even possible to do that? Well he fails. Oats are like his favorite food.  


“Oh your poor feathers…” That was one thing humans were good for. The penises on their front hooves saved hours of time on grooming. And this human was especially good at it. She had him back to new in less than five minutes.  


She began to take the net off, and immediately the male one wrapped a rope around his neck. Yeah, um, no. He is going to have to object to this.  


The pegasus began to rear up, lurching Owain off his feet. Cynthia grabbed the rope, and it took both of them straining to silence the steed.  


“How about Blackjack?” Owain suggests. “Because taking him with us is a gamble.”  


“How is it a gamble?”  


“Well, we are gambling on this one accepting you as his rider, we are gambling on him being able to fit into our fighting style well, we are gambling that he doesn’t esca--”  


“I get it.” Cynthia considers. “For now.” She agrees. “Blackjack is his name.”  


Cordelia rides in on her mount Catria, and immediately Blackjack stop fighting. He has never seen a white pegasus before, let alone one so beautiful and healthy. A gorgeous white female… he has never seen anything like it.  


Cordelia dismounts.  


“I see you found something Cynthia.” Cynthia nods in agreement.  


“His name is Blackjack.” Cordelia pauses.  


“Cynthia, male pegasi are more difficult to control. We only really know of one knight who rode one into battle.”  


“Then I just have to be the second. Can’t be much harder than surviving the apocalypse.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

This was much harder than the apocalypse. Blackjack wasn’t letting her touch him without oats in her hand, let alone mount and ride him. Every time she was thrown, it was followed by this whinny. As if the beast were laughing at her petty attempts.  


Cynthia decided before she got thrown the hundred and first time to take a minute and examine the beasts interests. The problem was that she didn’t understand this beast at all. This beast was a mystery to her. She didn’t understand him like she did Cadea. So she decided to watch him and wait for something to come to her.  


Owain approached the burgeoning young pegasus knight.  


“Any luck hero of mine?” Even simple stuff like that made her heart soar. The way he called her his hero…  


“No luck at all.” She sighed. “Ylisse wasn’t built in a day, and neither were it’s knights.”  


“That wouldn’t make me feel better.”  


“It really doesn’t make me feel better either.” Owain and Cynthia chuckle at this.  


“Blackjack is just a completely different personality from Cadea, you know?”  


“Yeah. I know. Cadea was always so demure, even when throwing someone. It was almost as if she were reluctant to do it. Blackjack is like…”  


“They’re like Noire. Cadea is her when she’s quiet, and Blackjack is blood and thunder.”  


“Heh.”  


“Let’s just hope that we can figure him out yeah?” Owain smiles down at her. Cynthia doesn’t know what she would do without him. The loss of Cadea was still fresh, but Owain made her feel better with just proximity.  


“Alright!” Cynthia jumps up. “So have you found any evildoers?”  


“Not so much today Cynthia. I know your conversion of Blackjack, the shadow wing is taking much of your time. I have been able to handle many of the evildoers myself.”  


“Oh… you have?” Cynthia seemed disappointed. Owain decided to backtrack.  


“Erm… mostly small time issues. Nothing worth the exertion of your heroism!” Owain gives a pose. Cynthia does one of her own.  


“I am rather heroic, aren’t I?”  


“Yes, which is why it is of the utmost importance that your efforts be exerted here, where they are needed most! The fiend Blackjack is necessary to our cause.” Owain nods to himself. Severa looked on from her perch above them on the cliffside  


Ugh. How boring. It’s like nothing changed at all between them. Still the same dorks they always were. Severa hoped that getting those morons to finally confess they’d be all over each other. But no. It’s the same old same old poses and stupid lines. Even after that kiss they had after her pegasus died. That was it. Not even much flair about being a match sanction by Nagas lov-......Gawds. Now she was sounding like them too. Still. . . Even though she was doing better they still aren’t, you know, A couple couple. All the gross hand holding and Lovey dovey compliments that were about as meaningful as Inagos. Well she wants answers. After all, she spilled the beans to Cynthia, so Severa deserved the same courtesy.  


Severa interrupted their conversation from her perch:  


“What is going on between you two?” She gives a little smirk to Cynthia. “Did you take the advice from my last talk or are you too scared?”  
Owain isn’t quite sure what Severa is going on about, but Cynthia is a tomato right now. It must have been something quite scandalous. Owain blushes in empathy.  


“Severa, please!” She begs. Severa begins clambering down.  


“What? I just want to know why your not more intimate with the guy you want to spend the rest of you life with side by side.” Severa says with her typical biting sarcasm.  


“Well it sounds gross when you say it with that tone.” Cynthia points out.  


“Is it really gross to have wet, hot, steamy sex with your boyfriend?” Severa wiggles her eyebrows. Owain hesitates. So that was what they were on about. “But you two don’t even hold hands!”  


“That’s simple. We fell In love because of who we are. It’d be weird to change our attitudes just because we’re you know...a thing now.”  
Severa scoffs at this.  


“Well don’t you want her to feel special and loved? Show that your devoted with displays of affection?” Severa gestures.  


“I don’t see the point in overemphasizing this. It’s already something beautiful and magnificent on it’s own. I don’t have to pretend it’s something it’s not. It doesn’t have to be flashy or shown off. It was already obvious to everyone before, so why should anything have to change now?”  


“Because!” Severa struggles to come up with something.  


“Is Inigo rubbing off on you?” Cynthia asks innocently.  


“I-I just want to know that my baby sister is going to be happy, alright? Gawds!”  
Cynthia looks shocked by that announcement. She knew that they had lived together in the same family for the past seven years, but she never knew that she felt this strongly…  


“I thought that I: ‘wasn’t your sister or anything, Gawds?’” Cynthia feels tears come to her eyes.  


“Yeah, well, I changed my mind. There’s nothing wrong with that. And… I just want to be sure that Owain is making you happy is all. As it is, nothing has changed. It… makes me worried, you know?”  


“Severa… Owain is important to me. I don’t know what I’d do without him. But I don’t need to be hanging on him all the time to demonstrate that.” Cynthia hugs Severa. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”  


Owain smiles at the moment. Then he realizes what time it is.  


“I’ll go grab us some dinner, Cynthia.” Owain starts to head off.  


“You better grab three plates mister, I’m not going anywhere. And make sure that you don’t grab anything burnt this time!”  


Owain sighs. The world changes, the players change, but Severa never changes.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Blackjack saw the pegasus again. The gorgeous white one. Would their children be white? Black? Grey? Spotted? He didn’t care. The idea of that magnificent beast in the same stable as him… it was enough to get a body ready. He wouldn’t mind the other one being in the same stable as him too. Or both of them?  


Yup, nope. He needed it.  


Suddenly, a thought came to him. In order to get anywhere close to those beautiful steeds, he would need to play nice with the female human and her mate. Let them saddle him and ride him like some common pack horse. But… how could he ensure that he got what he wanted in return?  


The female that had mounted him so many times yesterday approached him, saying something he couldn’t understand. She looked between his legs. ...It occurred to him that his desires were quite obvious. He looked pointedly at the white steed, then threw his head back. He hoped the message was obvious enough.  


Cynthia walked back to Cordelia.  


“What do you think about that? Looks like Blackjack has a little crush.” Cynthia giggled.  


“A rather large one from my point of view.” Cordelia chuckled back.  


“I think he’s trying to make a deal with me. Your Pegasus for me riding him.” Cordelia considers…  


“It really is a win win win situation… We could start repopulating all of the pegasi Gangrel killed, You would be able to ride again, and not to mention that we may finally have access to pegasi that were born in captivity…” Cordelia is smiling widely. “And I could even make it so Catria doesn’t have colts until after the war… all I would need is some of that herb Anna was selling earlier…”  


“So we’re doing it?” Cynthia raises an eyebrow.  


“We may even be able to get Cadea in there as well. Assuming that Blackjack let’s you ride him, he could be a very popular boy…”  


The ornery pegasus allowed himself to be saddled and ridden on the first try that day.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Cynthia treasured these moments that she had in her tent with Owain. His arms wrapped around her were bliss. Pure bliss.  


“I saw you riding Blackjack today.” Owain commented.  


“Yeah. Turns out he really wanted to mate with Mom and Cordelia’s pegasi.” Cynthia chuckled. “He is motivated by sex. Like a lot of men I know.”  


“Can I be motivated by sex too?” Owain pleaded with her. Cynthia couldn’t stop herself from smiling.  


“We’ll see.~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the five readers I have right now. I really appreciate the support. Be sure to comment any suggestions you have!


	8. Back on Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: What are your thoughts on this chapter?  
> Le Him: Not enough Gregor.  
> Le Me:But… Don’t you know?  
> Le Gregor: Everyone is making with being the Gregor.

Brady was in what most would consider… a bad situation. Surrounded on all sides by bandits, with not a fighting man to their name. This lot was no joke.  
Damn these Dastards. The whole lot of ‘em could go get bent. But Ma and Pa didn’t raise no quitter. If only he were stronger. He wouldn’t have to pick up the aftermath of the battle. Coulda’ stopped it. But….That’s not what he can do. Why are the attacking a temple anyhow!? Not that it’d be better if they were pillaging someone else but…...Is that a pegasus? Damn straight. He’d recognize that booming announcement of title anywhere…  


The Justice Cabal was riding in.  


“--NIGHTMARE TO YOU!” Cynthia lands just outside the building. This, quite naturally, confuses everyone except Brady. Are these bandits here to kill them? Some other force? Brady evidently knew them, so it was probably the latter...  


“Cynthia?! Owain?! Whatcha doin out here fer?!” Brady smiled, until he remembered exactly who he was talking to after Owain jumped down and gave a ridiculous pose…  


“Brady of the moistened eye,” Oh gods, THAT title again... “The Justice Cabal Has arrived! Forged from the fires of Grimas wrath, and cooled by the soothing balm of Naga’s will the blade of divine Justice that is our cabal will Smite--”  


“Aright aright I hear ya! Can ya do it in ten words?” Brady interrupts.  


“Erm… The Justice cabal has arrived Brady of moistened eye?”  


“BAM!” Cynthia interjects. “That was the tenth word.”  


…  


Sweet Naga.  


“I done seen that.” Brady sighs. “Where the others at?” Cynthia looked sheepish.  


“Weeeeeell… Blackjack sorta kinda got over excited and flew ahead?” Brady finally processed the identity of the steed she was riding.  


“What you paintin Cadea feath-- And she has a dick.”  


“Long story--” Owain interrupts, counting words on his fingers.  


“Cadea died. Got new pegasus. It has a dick.” Nine…  


“BAM! ...Tenth word again.” Somehow less funny the second time. Brady decided to change the subject.  


“When the rest gonna get here then? I jus’ Holdin out trying to heal but no staff gonna protect these guys.” Owain was counting along, but froze after ten.  


“I thought we were playing the ten words or less game?” Brady, slightly miffed at him not answering his question, answered thus:  


“Yah jus lost it.”  


Sure enough, Owain counts just to be sure… eleven.  


“Godsdammit.” As he said that, Lucina arrived on the scene on the back of Minerva with Gerome. If the villagers weren’t panicked, they certainly are now. Now there was a FUCKING DRAGON here.  


“Brady!” Lucina gave her small smile. Brady lost words for a moment. “Looks like we made it just in time.”  


Brady made a vague squeaking noise. No one was quite sure what that meant.  


“Right.” Lucina sighed. Severa took that moment to enter the scene with Inigo in tow.  


“Hey Cynthia!” Severa called out. “I bet you and your idiot boyfriend can’t make as many kills as me and Inigo!”  


“Loser has to do anything the winner says for an entire day.” Cynthia smirks.  


“Deal.” Inigo looks panicked.  


“Woah, woah. Hold on! Don’t just go making deals for us, Severa--”  


“GO!” Cynthia shouts, and the race is on.  


The bandits may have been trouble for those villagers, but Cynthia and Owain could take them on in their sleep. Especially since…  


“Erm, Cynthia, where did you get that tome?”  


“I took it from Laurent’s tent. Guess I have some of my Dad in me after all!” She reads from the thunder tome, and nearly falls off her horse when she fires it off.  


“I missed.”  


“You have to point with your other hand in the direction you want it to go.” Owain tells her.  


“How am I supposed to do that and hold the reins at the same time?”  


“How do you wield a lance?”  


“Practice…”  


“Let’s work on that later… I really don’t want to lose to them and find out what Severa has in store for us…” Owain kills one. That’s six.  


By the time they are finished, the rest of the shepherds are still lagging behind. Severa and Inigo charge back to the dynamic duo.  


“I got six!” Severa celebrates. Her mirth is short lived.  


“We got nine.” Cynthia is grinning.  


“No way!” Severa pouts. Inigo sighs.  


“Maybe we shouldn’t start losing battles. Of course they would beat us at kill counting. They are on a mount. We can’t reach all they can.” Lucina and Gerome drop in between them. Lucina looks furious.  


“Twenty one.” She announces. “My request is that you don’t do something as reckless as charge an entrenched enemy again. Our parents haven’t even arrived yet! This was supposed to be a scouting mission!” Lucina sighs. “If Morgan were here, he would be scolding you too! Do you have any idea how many times me and Gerome had to save your lives because of that foolhardy stunt? I expected better of you Severa. You too Inigo.”  


Cynthia didn’t get the subtleties of that last statement, but Owain did. She was saying that she didn’t expect anything more from them. The clowns. The Justice Cabal was a disappointment, so she wasn’t surprised when it disappointed her. ...Harsh.  


Severa sighs.  


“Well there go my chances there.” Both Inigo and Owain cock their heads in unison.  


“For what?”  


Severa turns a bright red and looks askance.  


“N-nothing you idiots! I-I don’t have to tell you anything!” She stomps off, and Owain puts two and two together to get four. ...Severa was in love with Lucina? But so was Brady… and Inigo would take what he can get… And Noire has a thing for Brady too…  


Why are things getting so complicated?

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

That night, Cynthia and Owain were lying together as they had started to nowadays. Something about it just felt right. They fit together, and they didn’t mind the silence as they basked in one anothers warmth in the night chill.  


“Owain.” Cynthia managed.  


“Yeah?”  


“We’ve been… together, together for like two months now, yeah?” Cynthia sounded like she was going to broach an uncomfortable topic.  


“Yeah. We have.” Owain shut his eyes again.  


“Remember that joke you made? A while back?” Cynthia asked.  


“Which one?” Owain asked.  


“The one about being motivated by sex.” Cynthia reminded him. Owain’s eyes snapped open, and a blush covered his face.  


“Yeah?”  


“...I thought that meant we were going to do it soon.” Cynthia told him.  


Owain’s brain has stopped working.  


“I mean… um…”  


“Do you think I’m… sexy?”  


“YES. Naga yes. I can’t stop looking at you.”  


“Then why haven’t we… Y’know… done it?” Owain considers this.  


“We never really… established completely what this is.” Owain broached. “We just… sorta got more physical.”  


Cynthia paused. … she turns around to face Owain.  


“You’re right.” Cynthia kisses him on the mouth. “I… We are partners now. In everything. Forever. I mean… I guess we should have seen this coming. We spent so much time together, and I wasn’t going to be willing to sacrifice that for some boy… You’re everything to me. My other half, and I don’t know how else to show exactly how much I love and appreciate you.”  


Owain sighs…  


“I don’t want to do anything that could get you pregnant. ...Not right now. We are on a battlefield Cynthia. I want our baby to be safe.”  


“There are ways to avoid pregnancy you know.” Cynthia giggles as Owain brings his mouth right next to her ear.  


“But I want to put a baby in you. They will be the ultimate hero. Through a bloodline of heros. It will be the ultimate addition to the tapestry of this world.” Cynthia puts her mouth next to Owains ear.  


“Nothing would make me happier.” Owain felt light pressure on his earlobe. “But you’re right. Not right now.”  


…  


“But I have to show my appreciation somehow…”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“You did not!” Severa’s eyes sparkle.  


“I did.” Cynthia sighs. Severa cackles uproariously.  


“What did it taste like?” Severa leans forward. Cynthia looks reluctant to speak.  


“It tasted like a sweaty thumb.”  


“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA--”  


“What’s so funny about that?”  


“Usually people lie or embellish, or…” She puts on a mocking tone. “‘It tasted like his love for me--’ NO! Sweaty thumb.” Severa snickers.  


“It’s not funny!” Cynthia’s face is burning.  


“But seriously… That’s interesting. Usually it’s the guy pushing the relationship to get more physical.” Severa comments.  


“He said that we should wait until after the Walhart campaign. Then we’re…”  


“You’re what?”  


“Starting a family. A family of heroes.”  


“Wait what? You’re already planning that?” Severa seemed shocked for some reason.  


“Yeah… you were the one saying that we could get married right now if we really wanted to… Well I took that seriously.” Cynthia is wearing a dopey smile. “I want to be with him… My partner in everything.”  


“Wow. Just… Wow. I thought you two weren’t going to be gross, but then you drop that?” Severa crosses her arms. “Just because you don’t get physical in public… I underestimated the power of your lovey dovey ness.”  


“I thought you wanted more lovey dovey ness?”  


“I also thought I had a chance with Lucina. We all make mistakes.” Severa looks bitter. “I’m not my picture perfect mother…” Cynthia sighs.  


“I grew up in your house too, remember? Your mother did the best she could considering we were at war…” Cynthia sighs. “Really it was exhausting to hear how great she was.”  


“I’m the daughter of the greatest pegasus knight known to man. And one of Chrom’s greatest advisors. I have expectations placed upon me that you couldn’t possibly understa--”  


“As the daughter of a second rate and a thief?” Cynthia spits.  


“...I didn’t say that.”  


“Well you don’t have to. The people I knew all my life were heroes are constantly dragged through the mud. A sugar addicted thief that took his pay from the Shepherds in candy? That’s a joke. Nevermind the fact that he literally sacrificed his life to ensure that you and your mother would live. A woman constantly flying in your mother’s shadow? A woman who tripped and made pies and made more mistakes than triumphs, who was superstitious and believed in fate more than her own ability? That’s a joke. Not my mother who raised me for nine years on her own, while also fighting a war for our very survival until the day she couldn’t anymore. That is the legacy I am expected to fill. Not that of a hero, but that of a punchline to a joke.”  


“Everyone thinks Sumia was a hero.”  


“Not as much as any of the other Shepherds. That is why… I have to be a hero. A bigger hero than anyone else can be. Not just for myself anymore. But so that… my children can be proud of their mother.”  


Severa is silent for a good long while, looking her adopted sister over and again. Even now, she was finding new layers to her that she never expected. ...Maybe she wasn’t paying attention before, or maybe her baby sister is growing up before her eyes…  


“Whether you wait or not… you’re going to be a great Mom, Cynthia.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Inigo saw Owain sitting down and scribbling in his diary. Even a committed relationship couldn’t break him of the habit of dreaming like a child. Although the woman he was currently with probably only enhanced his desire for childish fantasy. He truly is more grounded than others give him credit for, even himself, but he had a lot to learn before he started out truly on his own.  


Don’t we all?  


Inigo chuckled mirthlessly at that sentiment. He himself was certainly a child at times. ...Every time he looked at Severa he wondered if it was truly worth it. If it was worth being able to smile openly to lose all traces of authenticity. He was an introvert at heart… The Inigo he portrayed was a role crafted so that he would be able to approach others in public. Was it worth being an illusion to be able to approach others? Could any woman he attracts with this act really be in love with him?  


That was one thing Owain was not. Insincere. About anything he did. He let you know exactly what he was thinking in his own strange way whether you wanted to hear it or not. Inigo could admire that. Inigo admired Owain for a lot of things. He could appreciate a good story as much as the next man, and knew all about acting and playing roles. Even if the content of those stories were not… of interest to him. Owain could fight well, and Inigo could count on him to have his back in a pinch.  


…  


He actually liked the man a lot more than he cared to admit. The sincerity, the unabashed way he could speak his mind without any regard for others, it gave him this sort of magnetism, this charisma that others were drawn towards. It was something that Inigo wished he could posses in anything other than a stilted role...  


His legs were walking towards him before he could think about it.  


“What are you doing?” Inigo found himself asking.  


“Writing.” Was the curt answer.  


“Writing what?” Inigo cocks his head. The book closes, and the quill is set down.  


“If you’re just going to make fun of me, get it over with.” Owain crosses his arms.  


“Is it more weapon names?” Inigo feels laughter bubbling in his stomach, but keeps it away from his face.  


“If you must know…” Owain sighs. “It is the Epoch of Owain Dark.”  


“You’re writing about yourself?” Inigo chuckles. “Isn’t that a tad narcissistic?”  


“I decided to write some of my more inspired stories down with a connected plotline and recurring characters.” Inigo raises his eyebrows.  


“That’s… actually a productive use of your time.” Inigo admits.  


“Must have pained you to admit that.”  


“Does it have a connecting theme? It isn’t enough to have a plotline.” Owain’s face screws up in thought.  


“Didn’t think of that. ...May help with pacing as well…” Owain taps the table.  


“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” Inigo breathes out a puff. “I actually have a question…”  


“Shoot.”  


“I think I’m in love with Severa. How do I get her?” Owain facepalms.  


“There’s your first mistake. Severa is not a possession. You cannot ‘get’ a person. I thought you would know that from how many times a day you get rejected.”  


“Okay, ouch…”  


“Second off. Stop flirting with other girls.” Owain says like a slap to the face.  


“But… Owain. It’s… It’s like Owain Dark. A role that I have to play in order for…”  


“Yeah?”  


“People to… like me.”  


“I assure you. No woman likes a constant flirt.” Owain opens the book again. “Change the persona. I do it all the time with the Dark version of me. Focus your romantic intent on your love’s true eye, and forgo all others.”  


“But mother told me all about how Maribelle taught her that flirting with noblemen helped her with her shyness…”  


“I think you could potentially move on from that crutch if you really tried. Your narrative on putting on a brave face is compelling enough on it’s own. The flirting actually detracts from the likability of the character. Admirable from a character building standpoint, but that is not the goal of Inigo, is it?” Owain stops scribbling. “You don’t want to be a relatable character, you want to be an utterly likable character. The sort that an author kills off to try and foster an emotional response from the reader.”  


“I guess? Why the killing pa--”  


“Then take the flirt out of Inigo for everyone except Severa. Or better yet, be authentic with her.” Owain starts writing once more. “You probably want her to be in love with the real you anyway. Start there.”  


“Okay. What then?”  


“Well I imagine even that will be quite difficult for you, so we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” Owain closes his eyes for a moment. “Why go to me for advice?”  


“Well, you hate me unapologetically, so you won’t lie to try and make me feel be--”  


“I don’t know if you even have a chance with Severa.” Owain bluntly put.  


…  


“Is there a chance you’re lying?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Ladies and gentlemen. Just so that you’re informed, I may be starting up my other fanfiction back up again, Lon’qu: The peerless blade. That will not have a regular update schedule until this fanfiction is finished. So... I guess keep an eye out for that?


	9. Love isn't all roses and happiness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Him: This chapter is really fluffy.  
> Le Me: Fluffy implies there was really any plot to begin with.  
> Le Him: ...True.  
> Le Me: This is called a variety show for a reason.

Love isn’t roses and happiness, it is hard dirty work. Before one claims to fall in love, one should ask themselves if they are worth fighting for, with, and compromising. It is never easy to truly love someone else. It isn’t easy to maintain that desire when you butt heads on almost every point without hope or sign of resolution. It is the sort of thing people and media like to gloss over-- the dirty nitty gritty petty sorts of things like whether or not the toilet seat goes down. There is not a moral to it, there is not anything to truly be learned from the anger. It makes people uncomfortable. That sort of thing doesn’t sell. And yet it is one of the most important things you can learn.  


Luckily for Cynthia and Owain, they learned it early in their friendship, so it wasn’t difficult at all to transfer over to an actual relationship.  


“Why won’t you let me read it?” Cynthia asked. “I want to read what you’re writing.”  


“It isn’t done yet. The first chapter isn’t even done. I want it to at least be polished somewhat before--”  


“I thought we were partners in everything. Not only some things.” Cynthia sighs.  


“We are, but it isn’t even close to being finished. I don’t want to show anyone the embarrassing beginning stages.”  


“So we are partners in everything… except the stuff that embarrases us.”  


“I never said that. Now you’re just putting words into my mouth.”  


“So where do you draw the line Owain?” Cynthia throws her hands up. “Where are your boundaries?”  


“It’s not that I won’t show you, It’s that there is nothing really right now to show.” Owain sighs and leans back. Cynthia leans forward above him.  


“Do you even love me?”  


“What? Of course I do!”  


“You’ve never said it. Not even once.” Cynthia leans back again and pouts. “If you’re just doing this so that I would feel better after Cadea’s death, mission accomplished.”  


“That isn’t what this is about.” Owain says, pleading with her.  


“Then say it. At least once. You can say it right?”  


“No. I can’t. Because there isn’t a word that encapsulates what Owain Dark feels for the wing of Justice. He is in awe that she would even grace his flawed and humble form with her presence. He is scared that if he does something wrong, something will pop and reality will come flooding back. ...I am afraid, in awe, so thankful, given new purpose, helpless, empowered, protective--”  


“So in other words… you love me.”  


“That isn’t the right word. Because it is too simple, too small to encompass all of this vast feeling, this emotion bigger than the cosmos, this all encompassing state that has infested every fiber of my being. Love is too simple a word.”  


“Perhaps complex things need simple names so that people can understand them better.” Cynthia suggests. “And… maybe you should say the simple name so that I know you’re feeling it too.”  


“Cynthia… I--  


“Owain, I mostly just want you to be happy.” Cynthia rubs her head. “If you don’t love me too you can just… leave me. It’s fine.”  


“Of course I do.”  


“Then say it.”  


“You know I don’t like the word.”  


“It’s important. Say it.” Cynthia gets her hands ready. “Or else I’ll tickle you in your super secret spot.”  


“Alright! I love you! ...I feel dirty saying that.”  
“Get used to it. If that is dirty, I want us to be VERY dirty.” Cynthia proclaims, absolutely unaware of her own innuendo. Or perhaps she was and didn't care. ...Or perhaps she was and that was her intention...  


“I’m still not showing you the story yet.” Owain tells her.  


“...Can I be the first one to read it?”  


“Absolutely. You were going to be anyway.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“You better be writing this down Owain. I’m on fire.” Cynthia called back to her lover in all but the most technical sense. She jumps onto Blackjack and poses with an arm out. 

“The wing of justice’s reach is farther than you can run villain! Stand and fight so that you may fall to the thunder of my magic!” Cynthia looks back for approval.  


“It needs more work.” Owain calls to her. “What if you aren’t using thunder?”  


“Maybe it’s referring to the noise when you start casting?” Owain chuckles at the thought of the familiar sound.  


“That piddly little chime?” Owain snickers. “Not exactly a thunder.”  


“Alright mister novelist. What do you suggest?” Cynthia crossed her arms.  


“Use ‘point of my lance,’ and ‘the aim of my magic.’” Owain scribbles something in his notebook. “Stand and fight so that you may fall to the point of my lance and the aim of my magic.”  


“Are you implying my lance isn’t accurate?” Cynthia gestures with it, jokingly. “I’ll show you exactly how accurate I am with it.”  


“So then just point of my lance.” Owain looks back to his book.  


“But the whole point is to emphasize the fact that I can use magic now!” Cynthia throws her hands in the air.  


“So then use… erm… ‘potency of my magic.’” Owain suggests, marking something down.  


“Alright… doesn’t sound too bad…” Cynthia poses once more. “The wing of justice’s reach is further than you can run villain! Stand and fight so that you may fall to the potency of my magic!” Cynthia beams.”Did you write that one down?”  


“You bet I did.” Owain grins. “My turn.” Owain stands up and gives a pose. It was perfect, but this one was more about timing anyway. It could be ruined if he doesn’t drop the pose at exactly the right moment... “Beware villains. My sword hand hungers. My blade cries out for succor. My mind calls for the end of your life.” Owain ends the pose, exactly at the right time. He is just nailing it today. Change to a melancholic stance... “I fear I cannot control myself in the presence of true evil any longer.” Raise blade once more and finish. “…This is the end for you.” Cynthia shudders upon completion.  


“I got chills.”  


“You did? SWEET!” Owain breaks character for the briefest of moments. “I mean… it is only natural for you to feel that way after one of my highly calculated speeches.”  


“You better write that down, or I will.” Cynthia chuckles. “Is it my turn again?”  


“Wait…” Owain finishes scribbling. “Okay, go.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“Hey!~” Lissa calls out waving to her daughter in law. “Cynthia! Let’s talk a bit. We’ve just been so busy, we haven’t had the chance to talk at all!”  


“Sure!” Cynthia gives a little pose. “Whaddya wanna talk about?”  


“Do you like to do anything besides heroing?” Lissa asked.  


“Well sure!” Cynthia chirped in response. “I like taking care of Blackjack, I like flying, I like reading, although I haven’t really had much time to read recently…”  


“Oooh…” Lissa pauses and sighs. She certainly is her mother’s daughter… She liked to read? How could someone like reading? She could never stay still long enough for reading or writing or any of those sorts of things…  


“What about pranking people?” Lissa suggested.  


“Seems just a bit childish.” Cynthia ironically stated. “And not heroic AT ALL.”  


“Hey I’m not childish!”  


“Don’t worry about it. I’m older than you are after all!” Cynthia hums her theme. Lissa takes a second to process this information.  


“WAIT. How old are you?”  


“Nineteen!” Cynthia states with pride. Lissa realizes what is happening.  


“So my son is marrying someone older than his mother?” Lissa taps her chin. “Doesn’t that make things a bit… I don’t know… Creepy?”  


“Considering Owain is older than you too?”  


“My son is older than me.” Lissa groans. “Why does time travel have to make things so weird?”  


They stand with an awkward silence for a moment before Cynthia rocks back on her heels and smirks a bit.  


“Do you want to hear a story about Owain from before he came to this world?” Cynthia asks. Lissa immediately perks up.  


“Please.”  


“So this one time…” Cynthia begins. “Owain was refusing to eat his peas, so you told him that if human beings didn’t eat at least a bite of peas when they were offered to them that they would literally die.”  


“And he believed me?”  


“For years.” The girls snickered. “To the point that when I told my Mom that I wasn’t going to eat peas that night, he started freaking out.”  


“No…”  


“The best part…”  


“Yeah?”  


“The best part is that we both were thirteen at the time. So I was still refusing vegetables at thirteen, and he still hadn’t figured out that not eating peas once wouldn’t kill you!”  


“That’s pretty good, but I’m sure you’ve got a better one.” Lissa prompts.  


“Well sure I do, but Owain made me promise to never ever tell.”  


“Boo! C’mon! Just one more? Please?”  


“Alright!” Cynthia laughed, glad that she had found a similar interest with her mother in law. “So this one time we were out playing in the yard…”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain was on patrol, watching the perimeter of the camp when he heard a sudden crash. He drew his blade, and prepared his greatest speech yet for attacking this infiltrator. He turned to find… Sumia. In a compromising position underneath a heavy fallen treebranch.  


“Hey Owain! Erm… I don’t mean to impose…” Sumia says, ascance.  


“Nonsense! This is nothing for the likes of Owain Dark!” Owain lifts the branch so that she can scramble out from underneath it. She stands up, blood welling from a couple of places, but otherwise looking alright… nope, her left knee just collapsed out from under her.  


Owain catches her quite easily.  


“Thanks again.” Sumia laughs. “Do you mind too terribly if you escort me back to camp?”  


“Not an issue.” Owain lifts her up onto his back. She was actually a bit shorter and more petite than Cynthia, for whom he had to do this sort of thing all the time. Sumia giggles upon being lifted onto her son in law’s back.  


“I can see why Cynthia likes you so much. You’re so gallant.” Sumia laughs as Owain blushes furiously.  


“Please don’t make this weird. You’re my girlfriend’s Mom.”  


“Alright. Alright.” Sumia quiets. “But seriously… thank you. I did a flower fortune on the future of my daughter’s relationship with you.”  


“And?”  


“The future looks bright.”  


“How does that work anyway?” Owain asks.  


“Well you take a flower.” Sumia starts.  


“Yeah?”  


“And you ask a yes or no question, like: ‘Will my daughter and her boyfriend be happy together?” Sumia pauses. “Then you begin taking petals off the flower saying yes and no for each until the very last petal.”  


“But isn’t that easily an easily skewable fifty-fifty shot?” Owain asks.  


“Owain, if I can teach you one thing, it is that life is very similar to a flower fortune. You can go into a problem head on and leave it to fate to decide…” Sumia pauses dramatically. It is obvious where Cynthia gets her flair for the dramatic from...  


“Or you can count the petals before you start.” Owain chuckles at this.  


“Isn’t that cheating?”  


“Would you say that Robin cheats when she sends one of us flying pairs to survey a battlefield before we engage?” Sumia askes.  


“No…”  


“Plus… call it motherly intuition. You are good for my daughter.”  


“You’re daughter is good for me.” Owain counters.  


“Then that makes it all the more important for you to stay together.” They reach the medical tent, a silence growing between them. The sort to be gained after a stimulating, thought provoking conversation. The flighty, naive pegasus knight is more wise and deep than anyone ever gave her credit for.  


...Isn’t that the moral of this story?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are this week. Then I got three weeks off. I should have a lot more time to write then. Hopefully this work is going to finish up soon. I have the idea for a perfect ending.


	10. More of the same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: Next chapter. I suppose. This one is a bit shorter.  
> Le Him: On the nose though. Family moments.  
> Le Me: It’s important. To any sort of fic like this.  
> Le Him: Enjoy everybody.

Cynthia saw her father in law poking at a Risen arm. Taking notes on the reactions. Laughing the entire time. Snickering at the twitching of this netherworldly despicable force that had taken so many of her friends and family away from her. It made her sick, and if she didn’t know better, it would make her hate the man. If she didn’t know his true intents of care and joy… this sort of weird diaspora of loving, caring, and happy man with the sort of demented sort of mentality that he could laugh and poke at this source of so much misery and pain… It was as if he had some sort of disconnect in the reality of the situation. Could Evil be happy? Could a good man have this lighthearted, morbid sense of humor to the point that he is irreverent and flippant in the face of true evil? Or is he somewhere in between? Neither good nor evil, but something described by neither and yet sharing qualities of both? …  


She never thought of it like that before. Owain always talked about his character in those same sort of terms. Outwardly heroic with something dark and demented underlying within… Always talking about heroic and enraged death. It made her uncomfortable before, the talk of the death of her best friend, but now the thought was unbearable. Ripping a hole in her soul one stitch at a time, even the idea of losing him, her cornerstone, her love… It killed her inside bit by bit. True heroes returned home. True heroes were there for their families… Not a corpse and a memory that could just as easily disappear like a teardrop in rain. Was this man the cause of their ideological differences? Henry did talk of bloody painless death often…  


Who a hero is is hotly debated. Especially those who seek glory on the battlefield. One who is perceived a valiant crusader by some, is a ruthless invader to others. A freedom fighter or a terrorist? One’s legacy is often determined by the success of their cause. But for these two destined by fate to accomplish their goal, what legacy defines a hero? A glorious death, or a triumphant life? Had Owain already decided by promising to be a part of her family? Of course he had. But was his theatrics about death and despair merely fueling his literature, or was there something more to it? A longing for the idea of a heroic death… The status of martyrdom.  


Can he be blamed for that desire? Can he be blamed for a desire for a legacy? Cynthia certainly thought so. Their family would be their legacy. She would be the sort of pegasus knight that could make her daughter proud. Just as her mother was for her. She had vast shoes to fill in her opinion… even if everyone else thinks that she could easily eclipse them. And she hoped for her daughter to do the same. Or son. Or both. Both. They would cast shadows long so that their children could be protected from the sun. They would grow into beautiful children capable of heroism she couldn’t even dream. Not in her wildest fantasies of daring do. But that couldn’t happen without him…  


“Heya Cynthia! Why the long face? You been spaced out over there for a long while now.” Henry approached her.  


“I’m worried about Owain…”  


“Erm… why?” Henry’s face twitches for a moment.  


“Just… I’m worried that he might be a bit too fond of the idea of death.”  


“What’s not to be fond of? Darkness, silence, blood… three of my favorite things!” Cynthia sighs.  


“Just… nevermind…”  


Was it the fact that he had the blood of this man flowing through his veins? Or was it because he watched and admired him for so many years? Either way… she wasn’t so fond of that fact. It was a terrible thing to say, but it was true.  


She wished that Henry wasn’t his father…

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain looked nervous. Gaius appreciated that. He appreciated him more than he could understand. But he couldn’t let him know that right now. Right now, he had to appear the stoic father figure. Right now he had to put the fear of Naga into this boy.  


…  


What was the point again? He knew what this was about. He trusted him more than anything. He knew that Cynthia would be in good hands. He wasn’t really one for putting the fear into a man a head taller than him anyway. He grinned.  


“Poser. Cynthia told me about a book you’re working on.”  


“A-absolutely.” Owain flashes a small smile. “Owain Dark must regale the world with his experiences.”  


“You mean Owain Exalt must share his active imagination with everyone.”  


“A writer’s work, whether truth or fiction, is based on the perception of the author. Through his lens.” Owain persists. “Even if it is based on my… improvisation, it is based on how I perceive the world. A world full of heroes. Like Mom and Dad and Cynthia and… You and Sumia.”  


Gaius pauses at this.  


“Have you told your parents how they die?”  


“Mom insists that she doesn’t want to know. And she doesn’t want Henry to know. ...It may interfere with what she has to do. She doesn’t want to be too afraid to help people.” Owain gives a small smile. “And she doesn’t want Dad to worry about it, or to worse… go seeking it out.”  


“Can you tell me?” Gaius asks.  


“Is it important for you to know?” Owain asks hesitantly.  


“It is important for me to know what parenting means to you.” Gaius smiles. “I want to know that any grandkids I have will be responsibly raised so that I can spoil them with sweets.”  


Owain pauses.  


“You knew what I was going to ask for?”  


“Just give her the ring Poser. She’ll wear it. She already considers herself married to you. It is the sort of sickly sweet thing that girls do. Even if they are self proclaimed heroes of justice.”  


Owain gives a small laugh.  


“So you’re okay with us?”  


“I’m okay with you two being together.” Gaius starts to give a smirk. “What I am not okay with is you two wasting time with waiting to be together until after Walhart. I fucked Sumia as soon as I possibly could.”  


“W-w-what?” Owain stammers. “B-b-but that isn’t your decision to make. It’s ours. We… I want to responsibly raise my children so that you can spoil them with sweets.”  


Gaius bursts out laughing. He can’t hold it in anymore. This kid is great. He is so glad he is his son in law.  


“I’m joking. I definitely do not want my son-in-law to be as much of a knave as I am.” Gaius’ smile falls.  


“But… I still want to know. I understand if it is a difficu--”  


Owain jumps atop a nearby crate.  


“You wish me to tell you a tale of true heroism? Ah yes, it is something I must do. After all, not all legendary exploits are mine own.” Owain gives a pose. “Allow me to entertain you, to educate you. Stand in awe before the tale of Owain’s heroic blood!”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“Owain… Run…”  


Her blood was all over his outfit. The look in her eyes was utter fear. She implored him with lips spouting up blood with that aching look in her eyes-- that same aching blood that ran through his veins.  


She had no weapon. No method of fighting back. And yet she dove in front of a lunging spear for him. She shielded him with her body. The light fading from her eyes, she implored him once more…  


“Owain… Run…”  


And so died Exalt Lissa.  


Her husband, Henry was the type of guy that didn’t show his emotions very well. He was perpetually happy because showing one’s true feelings was a weakness. Owain had seen nothing but a smile on his face for the past 16 years.  


Until today.  


The righteous indignation-- the glory of the pure anger etched across his father’s face for that holy, timeless moment carved itself into Owain’s soul. The rage, the power…  


“Owain. Listen to your Mother.” The smile was back. “I have to exact bloody revenge okay?” Henry strode forward, power blossoming at every step, a dark aura growing around him… he had his father’s blood in him too. That identity of power and darkness. That boiling rage masked by a smile. That was his birthright.  


Henry was obscured from his vision for a while, but the shakes reverberated the cliff face that Owain was scaling. By the time he reached the top, most of the Risen were dead.  


And his father was still standing, despite the hole the size of a mercenary’s shield in his lower abdomen, and the missing status of his left arm.  


Maniacal laughter. The rage in the intonation obvious to anyone who heard it, the mania-- uncontrollable. That uncontrollable, heroic, boundless blood ran through his veins.  


Henry slew all of the Risen in that canyon that day. He achieved his goal of a bloody painless death. He felt no pain because he knew his efforts would avenge his fallen wife, and ensure his son’s safety. He had found his peace at last.  


There is nothing as powerful as a final stand. Nothing as pure as the vengeance he saw in his father’s eyes. Nothing as heroic as sacrificing one’s own life for the sake of others. He had the blood of heroes running through him-- the blood of two people who gave everything in defense of what was most important to them. His heart swelled with a sick twist of pride and melancholy. His parents were dead, but what a way to die!  


That is the identity of a hero. The rage that brings strength. That power barely restrained by will, slips to the forefront like sudden teardrops. Slipping out… True heroism cannot be tamed or controlled just like his father…  


His father…  


Owain knew no truer hero. He cannot fail and waste his parent’s sacrifice. He cannot fail in defeating Grima.  


But if he has to trade his life for someone else’s along the way, he will do so with a heroic pose.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain’s pose fell as he got into the story. His eyes fell. Tears started falling. Gaius understood how difficult this was for him. He was grateful that Owain would trust him enough to tell him this. He felt closer to him than ever. He felt truly and unquestionably a part of this man’s family. Owain was his son.  


“Thank you.” Gaius said. Owain gave a tearful nod. Gaius stayed silent for a moment more…  


“Would you do this for your children? Be that sort of hero?”  


“Without hesitation.”  


“That’s all I needed to know.” Gaius smiles softly. “But you trusted me with everything. Your emotion.” Gaius nods. “Thank you.” He holds out a lollipop. “You want a sucker?”  


The absurdity of that question made Owain laugh. But the significance was not lost on him. Gaius didn’t share his candy stache with just anyone…  


You are born with a family just as ore is mined from a mountainside. You also forge a family just as you would forge a blade. And the blade that Owain had just forged was without a doubt one of legend.  


But of course, this is getting repetitive. This story is just more of the same for a while. Stagnation. These relationships stay like this until the moment they don’t. The moment that changes everything. For better or worse, this one moment changes Owain and Cynthia’s lives about as much as the death of their parents, their promise to one another, or even coming to this world.  


You see, stories cannot show every tender moment, every heartfelt glance, every comfortable silence. Stories can only show so much before they become bloated and unwieldy. So the world moves, but the story moves quicker. Until the pair of heroes come face to face with their roadblock. And what a roadblock. The conqueror of an entire continent. Walhart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finished my finals, so the next three weeks I’m going to have off. Hopefully we can get some of this done.


	11. Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: The end is nigh.  
> Le Him: MMMMMgrimachapternow?  
> Le Me: Actually…  
> Le Him: What are you saying? No Grima chapter? NO G--

Void.  


An absence of meaning. Writers often describe rage, an inferno of feeling, but rarely speak of the aftermath. A seemingly endless desert of ash. A black powder representing a once palatial palisade of dreams and desires separating the playground of my mind from from cruel reality-- the truth of mortality. If I could go back and make every moment ten times more meaningful than it was, then I would in a heartbeat. If I could give my life to bring you back to life, I would do it in a third of a heartbeat. Time cannot measure how quickly I would give up anything for you. But I suppose that bargaining is as useless as the ashes of a dream in this case. And without hope, dreams, or you, all my life can be is void.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

“What are you writing now?” Cynthia yawns. “It’s like two hours before we have to get ready to march. Come back to bed.”  


Owain, ignoring the rest of the statements, tells her:  


“I’m writing Odin Dark’s backstory.”  


“Odin Dark?” Cynthia sits up on one elbow.  


“He was changing too much from my current personality. Plus, isn’t it a bit narcissistic to name your main character after yourself?”  


“Well, I mean, yeah, but… Cynthia searches for the right words. “You’ve been Owain Dark for so long…”  


“I still am Owain Dark.” Owain shakes his head. “It’s just that… He isn’t anymore.”  


“How so?”  


“Well for one thing, he doesn’t have an amazingly heroic fiancee that will listen to him ramble about nonsense for hours on end.”  


“I enjoy listening to your stories.” Cynthia giggles. “What else?”  


“He’s a dark mage. Obsessed with the cursed blood running through his veins, the blood that allows him to cast his fell magic.” This statement gives Cynthia pause.  


“Oh really.” Cynthia is barely restraining panic-- this sounds eerily familiar.  


“His family abandoned him, and he married early. Producing a child of great power-- even greater than his own.”  


“What’s his wife like?”  


“Not anywhere close to being you. She is satisfied with being normal, she isn’t willing to push herself to be a pegasus knight, warrior, or even a hero. She is willing to live her life as a housewife. But… She and her daughter are killed, forcing Odin Dark on a quest for revenge.”  


“I… see…”  


“So many of my stories require that element of vengeful rage that it only made sense to condense the vengeful rage to one event.” Owain taps his chin. “He certainly isn’t as lucky as I am. I have a better girlfriend, I have better luck, I have friends and allies, I don’t… need the rage that he has bubbling within him.”  


“Why didn’t you put me in your story?”  


“You asked me not to kill you in my stories. So I won’t”  


“...How much of your insomnia is just concern for how the battle tomorrow will come out?” Cynthia asked.  


“All of it. The air… It’s stagnating. It’s a classic indicator that something is going to go terribly wrong.” The hot summer air hung hot and heavy, especially in their tent. Owain didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was partly due to the fact that her body heat was making him uncomfortable in this weather.  


“Nothing bad is going to happen.” Cynthia smiles sweetly at him and puts her chin on top of the back of his head. “We are going to win the battle just like every other one that Robin has commanded. We are going to save this world. And then we are going to be here to help our parents in peace as we were in war.” Cynthia giggles. “I wonder what my baby self will look like.”  


“Probably as cute as you.”  


“Hey! Don’t go perving on the younger version of me!” Cynthia punches his shoulder.  


“What? I have my own version to perv on right here.” Owain grabs at her.  


“Hey! This isn’t sexy at all!” Cynthia jokingly protests.  


“You’re right. I’m not a pervert. That implies that you don’t want me to look at you.” Owain turns away from the book.  


“I want you to do more than look. In fact, after we beat Walhart, I might just ravage you a millisecond later.”  


“Oh really? A millisecond?”  


“Yup! I’m going to be all over you.” Cynthia licks her lips. This makes Owain laugh.  


“I don’t think it’s very heroic for us to make love in public.” Owain chuckles.  


“I don’t think it’s very heroic to make your wife wait four months for what you both want. I guess we’re both not being very heroic about this.” Cynthia pouts.  
Owain laughs… then considers for a moment.  


“Are we married? I don’t recall a ceremony…”  


“Are you planning on marrying anyone else?” Cynthia counters.  


“No. But doesn’t marriage require a ceremony?” Owain taps his chin.  


“No. And unless you plan on marrying anyone else, I am your wife, so there!” Cynthia sticks her tounge out at him. “And there is nothing you can do about it.”  


“Oh there is.”  


“You wouldn’t dare…”  


“You’re right.” Owain chuckles and rubs his nose against hers. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”  


“Ugh. That one nearly made me barf.” Cynthia mockingly gags. “Well, I guess if we’re both up at this point, we may as well start getting ready for today.”  
They both stand up, Owain still slightly leery over the humid July day.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The conqueror rides in atop his steed clad in steel-- surprisingly nimble. His red armor catches the sunlight and puts the entire field into a rosy glow. His men cheer at the sight of their undefeated leader taking the field. Forgetting that this will be a desperate last stand. Forgetting that this castle was their last bastion. Forgetting that they remained the last army of the last garrison of the last castle of a once great nation. The rise and fall of Walhart the conqueror was almost complete, preordained, destined by both Grima and Naga.  


You have to give the man credit, he did fight valiantly against the will of not one god, but two. He fought despite insurmountable odds, time and time again gaining impossible victory after impossible victory. The man was a giant. Someone to respect. His blood red armor giving a sense of dread to his enemies, and hope to his men. He was, in essence, a great military leader. In any other story, he would have been a great unifier. The restorer of Alm’s empire. A liberator of oppressed peoples from Chon’sin to Rosanne. From the Mila tree to Wyvern Valley.  


But his ambition outgrew the continent of Valm. He had to reach across the sea. He had to invest two thirds of his army into naval invasions that were doomed to be crushed. And so the mighty red giant fell. But he wasn’t grounded yet. And he was planning on taking as many of the would be saviors as he could manage.  


He would make them suffer for crushing his indomitable will underneath their boot like a beetle. He would make them pay for destroying his armies-- men’s lives like it was some sort of game at every turn. He would make sure that there were consequences for their victory. A cost that they could never recover from. Because if he couldn’t stop the coming of Grima, then no one deserved to have his rightful pleasure.  


He drew his blade-- Sol. One of his true partners along with Wolf Berg. It helped him conquer nation after nation-- healed his wounds-- sapped his enemies of strength. It would continue to do so. Even to the end.  


He raised it to the air… And let the final slaughter begin. There would be no glory to be had here. No honor on the battlefield. Just death.  
Just death.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain and Cynthia were immediately thrown into the thick of it, using the new “Aerial Envelopment” strategy that Robin had just coined. They would strike an enemy that was busy with one of their comrades from above with Magic, Javelins, or Owain’s blade to their skull. And it worked. Ridiculously well. People who were looking for their death at the front rarely ever found it from above.  


Even though they were spared the Melee, the heat of the day and the swarm of bodies on the field both living and dead created a cacophony of sound and scent the likes unparalleled by any battle Owain had fought in. Perhaps the stagnating air was not signifying his own misfortune. Perhaps every battle was a misfortune, bringing the tears of Naga to bear at it’s own necessity. Perhaps the air was stilling at the idea that in order to have new live, you must have the old die. And here they died in droves.  


Still none of the shepherds died, but their bannermen allies? Their opponents? Died wave after wave of crashing against one another and retreating back to their lines. Again and again, strike after strike, death after death. A cacophony of the sounds of death and the dying.  
It had to end.  


“Cynthia!” Owain shouted over the wind. “We have to get Walhart!”  


“Robin told us not to break rank!” Cynthia protested.  


“If you can point out where their lines end and ours begin, I will give you a cookie.”  


Cynthia, taking this challenge very seriously, attempted this.  


“Ahhh mm… Not there… Erm… I see your point. I’ll drop you, and you can take out the snipers he has as his guards.” Cynthia smirked. “Looks like he’s a little bit paranoid about fliers.”  


If you’re being honest, if you had the likes of Cherche, Gerome, Cordelia, Sumia, and Cynthia all flying above trying to kill you, you would be a little bit paranoid about death coming from that direction as well. Just admit it.  


Owain jumped off and landed in front of the conqueror himself, Cutting the first Sniper’s bow in half, then decapitating the other. Owain decided to hamstring the one who’s bow he cut as well, giving a slanted chop at the knee.  


“Walhart, your bloo--” No time for speeches, Walhart was upon him.  


Usually mounted opponents did not have speed of arms, but made up for it in mobility. Walhart had no such troubles. He had no obvious weakness. He had no weakness. And it was all Owain could do to keep up with flashing red blade and horse wanting to grind him into the dirt beneath him. But Owain had an ally in the sky, harrying him from above with magics. Once or twice, she even got a direct hit, causing a flinch and a groan as if his red armor was being grafted onto his skin…  


The smell of burning flesh confirmed this without a doubt. And yet he fought on with the strength of ten ordinary men. Truly a worthy opponent for Owain Dark. His men, seeing their leader in danger tried to turn and run to his aid-- turn their backs to Shepherd blades. Walhart’s army was being overwhelmed… no wonder he usually wished to battle alone.  


Finally, Walhart realized the position that he was in. He had to retreat in order to continue this fight. He took his blade Sol, grimaced at the pain of his armor’s continued melting onto his vulnerable skin, and threw Sol, end over end in Cynthia’s direction.  


He was trying to destroy one of the advantages Robin held over him.  


He succeeded.  


Sol plunged into Cynthia’s stomach, her health draining out of her like a bucket with a hole in it. Cynthia, in a last ditch effort to survive, threw the offending sword to the ground in front of the gate. BlackJack landed. And as soon as he did, Cynthia collapsed off of him.  


“MOTHER!” Owain shouted, rushing over and watching as Cynthia’s entrails slowly spilled out. Owain, heedless of any danger that was presented towards him at such a sight, and knowing the dangers of them hitting the ground, rushed over and began pushing his wife’s entrails back inside her.  


“MOTHER!” Owain shouted again, the blood of Cynthia covering his hands as he tried helplessly to keep her alive. Owain was watching her die. Watching the death of a hero. His love. Just like the death of everyone else he held dear.  


“MOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMOTHERMO--ther... mother… mother…” He continued to choke out a plea that began to lose all meaning after the fifth or sixth time he said it. He began to beg the world for this word that meant ‘help Cynthia is dying,’ more than a plea for any individual person. He begged and pleaded and cried and shouted in between sobs and heart wrenching, mindless screams.  


Lissa, thinking her son was injured, was rushing towards his position. That day, Owain had undoubtedly saved Cynthia’s life. He was the first responder, and screaming for help at the top of his lungs…  


And Lissa undoubtedly saved her life by rushing towards her and getting to her within two minutes of hearing her son’s screams for her. Without her skill with a stave, it would be difficult to know for sure what would have happened to Cynthia. But she arrived.  


“Owain, I’m he--” Lissa trails off, stunned at the sight before her. She snaps back after half a second. “Owain. Let me close the wound.”  


Lissa worked quickly and efficiently, no stranger to battlefield wounds. This wound should have Cynthia screaming as well, it isn’t nearly bad enough to merit-- she must have passed out from the shock and pain of pulling a sword out of her gut herself.  


Lissa was only half right, in truth, Cynthia saved her own life by pulling that vampiric blade from her when she did. Without a weilder, the blade drank and drank and drank away until the target was nothing but a husk. Cynthia was also suffering from the immediate drain on her life force.  


Owain knelt next to his wife, out of tears, blubbering still, before taking a deep breath, and feeling rage fill him.  


“If I could go back and make every moment ten times more meaningful than it was, then I would in a heartbeat.” Owain managed, looking at the blood he had smeared all over her hand. “If I could give my life to ensure your survival, I would do it in a third of a heartbeat.” Owain pauses. “Time cannot measure how quickly I would give up anything for you. But I suppose that bargaining is as useless as the ashes of a dream in this case. And without hope, dreams, or you, all my life can be is void…”  


“And Rage.”  


Owain picked up the blade that had so harmed his wife. This would be his tool for killing the conqueror. ...The reality is, no matter how many people momentarily save your life, we are all destined to die. To be mortal. Cynthia, no matter how many people saved her life right now, was destined to die somewhere down the line. Somewhere down the line, his love would die. Somewhere down the line, he would die.  


He begged Naga to not let his wife die today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire chapter was brutal. I need to lie down.


	12. Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Me: And so it does. It ends. There is the canon end, and the better one.  
> Le Him: Yeah. The one with and without mah boi Grima.  
> Le Me: Girl in this case.  
> Le Him: Big dragon o- Never mind. Do we get a smut chapter?  
> Le Me: Probably not. Honestly I’ll only do it if the intrest is there. Haven’t really had anyone do that.  
> Le Him: Why is fate so cruel?  
> Le Me: Make a bunch of accounts and spam the comments then. I wouldn’t be able to tell.  
> Le Him: Eh. Too much effort. Enjoy the ends guys!

Owain walked across the battlefield in a haze, striking opponents down with the conqueror’s blade, both blade and hands stained with love’s blood. Blood of heroes making his strikes stronger, making him fight with more ferocity.  


It isn’t longer before blade and handle are both the same color.  


Owain kills a man with a large, spruce moustache. He shouts something about hairs and spiders and greatness at him. Owain wasn’t paying attention. What was he supposed to pay attention to? This man was merely in his way to his true goal.  


There was another one of significance. A toad man tried to run from him. Owain cut him down as well. He did so because he recognized this toadman. Toadwoman? Female Toadman. She called himherself a princess. It didn’t matter. Whether a cowardly female toadman princess, or a wing of justice, both would die the same. The blood of it stained floor and blade, memories spilling out across the tile.  


They both died with little more significance than rats. Just as everyone does. Death isn’t heroic…  


Cynthia is a hero. She wouldn’t do something as unheroic as die. She would live on. Right?  


Or is the fact that everyone is mortal make no one a hero?  


…  


There is the throne room. Beyond is a man who conquered and lost a continent in the space of five years. Beyond is a man who made hundreds of thousands of people love him. Beyond is the man who put his love in danger. Beyond is a man who must die.  


The door opens to a pitiful sight. A mount nudging it’s master sitting on a blood red throne.The smell of burnt flesh fills the room. The conqueror’s head sits on his chest at an uncomfortable looking angle. He does not react to the sound of doors opening. Owain lowers his blade. Silence fills the sweltering room like a heavy fog.  


…  


The stallion knocks the conqueror-- the corpse off his throne.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Owain enters the medical tent in a daze. He… he has hope. Cynthia was alive. She was alive and asking for him. He was running. He could vaguely sense that. He was running towards his hope for the future. He passed by his mother who was about to say something to him. He ran inside. Cynthia was alive. Pale, her normally lustrous hair hanging dry and thin in a cascade around her, and her eyes had much less light in them. Owain gives her a hug.  


“Gently.” Cynthia croaks in a much softer voice than what she is usually known for. “Gently. Gently… I’m glad you’re okay.”  


“Okay? Me? Of course I am! What about you?”  


“Lissa says that I am going to be weak for a couple weeks, but I should be more or less back to normal after that.” Cynthia smiles a bit. “That sword was draining vitality from me. That is something that takes time to recover.”  


“I’m just glad you’re alive.”  


“I almost wasn’t. One thing going differently would have lead to a very dead Wing of Justice.”  


“That isn’t heroic at all.”  


“What happened to death in battle being the most heroic piece of self sacrifice one could achieve?”  


“I don’t want to lose you. Not yet.” Owain sighs and lets her go.  


“So.” Cynthia folds her hands. “Is Walhart dead?”  


“Yes.” Owain confirms. Cynthia breathes a sigh of relief.  


“Who killed him?”  


“You did Cynthia.” Owain tells her. Her eyes widen. “Or rather, his melted armor from your magic did.”  


“Brutal.” Cynthia shudders.  


“I won’t ever forget the smell.” Owain comments. “Like he was cooked inside the very plate created to protect him.”  


“Gross!” Cynthia screws up her face then winces. “I don’t want to think about the cooked conqueror.”  


Owain laughs. Cynthia does as well, and winces afterwards… She is by no means completely fine after that brush with death.  


“Sorry Owain… We’re going to have to wait a bit longer still… for… you know… I can barely move.” Cynthia smiles apologetically.  


“For what? Getting stabbed? You have nothing to apologize for… I will wait for you.” Owain extends a pinky to his heroic partner. “We’re partners in everything remember?”  


Cynthia has tears crawling down her face. She nods, her eyes filled with a weak relief, all she can manage in her state, but an important moment regardless. Their foreheads touch… then their noses. Green orbs sit across from weak brown ones, unwavering. Their lips meet, and Cynthia feels warmth rush back into her body.  


Cynthia wasn’t sure what it was precisely, but something was wrong. Perhaps it was her sapped lifeforce, perhaps it was the aftereffects of being healed, perhaps it was seeing Owain so utterly helpless and relieved before you when he usually isn’t so open in public… Always wearing his darkened mask. But his relief here was so raw and visceral… Perhaps it was a combination of all three. But she couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong, she had this sense of unease that she couldn’t shake… A sense of dread. Like the trial was far from over.  


Here Lissa entered, stave in a tight, wringing grip, her eyes downcast. She pursed her lips and opened her mouth in succession like a fish gasping for breath, like a fish out of water… She has never had to deliver catastrophic news before. She especially hasn’t had to do it for her son and his wife…  


“I need to talk to you.” She finally manages after a couple of minutes.  


“...That bad huh?” Cynthia smiles wistfully. Lissa nods.  


“You should go mostly back to normal… but you’re never going to be back at peak condition.” Lissa states.  


“Meaning that I can’t be a pegasus knight anymore?” Cynthia’s voice is fine, but her eyes are hurt.  


“The war is over at least… and there is nothing to stop you from teaching… but I can’t recommend you to ride your pegasi with nearly the vigor you did before… with nearly the intensity even recommended for an ordinary pegasus knight.” Lissa sighs.  


“I… understand.” Cynthia sighs. “Is that… all?” Lissa shakes her head for the contrary.  


“I fixed you as best as I could, but it was definitely touch and go for a while.” Lissa takes a deep breath out. “And the womb is an especially delicate organ…”  


“What are you saying mother?”  


“Cynthia… in layman’s terms you aren’t going to be able to have kids. Ever.”  


Have you ever heard words that set the entirety of the world hurtling straight onto your head? Owain and Cynthia experienced this at the same time-- the same earth shattering revelation that would strain even the strongest of relationships. Not only was the thing that created this bond for them out of her reach forever, but also the very idea of children became an impossibility for them. They say that lives are defined by moments. Nowhere is this more true on hospital beds.  


There was nothing to do but cry. Nothing they could do but cry at the unfairness of life.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

(If you believe Fates to be canon, this ending is for you. But there are definitely two.)

Owain remembered those days with the same sort of bittersweet recollection that he remembered everything to do with Cynthia. This tinge of soft, somber colors. He wouldn’t trade those moments for the world, but they, like everything else did not last.  


Cynthia insisted that Owain continue to fight after her injury. He helped destroy Grima. She sat and watched as the world ending dragon fell. For years and years after the news, they tried to lead a normal relationship. However the fact that they could produce no children to share, along with financial troubles, and the fact that Owain did something all important without his partner in everything... They loved each other-- they still do. But this weight between them was too much for either to bear. After three years of valiant effort, the two heroes separated from one another romantically.  


Owain sometimes wondered what would have happened if he had insisted that he not fight as well. If he didn’t add slayer of the fell dragon to his resume without his partner in everything? If he hadn’t stained that title with one simple fact…  


But that was two years ago now. Cynthia was one of the instructors for the new pegasus knight recruits along with her mother and Cordelia, and she was for all appearances the same Cynthia… but she had this sadness behind her eyes. This sort of longing for something so far beyond her reach that it was unfathomable to reach across and grab it now.  


Perhaps she was troubled with much the same thing he was.  


As for him, he followed Inigo and Severa on a quest to another dimension. To help this dragon fellow. Anakos. He didn’t hesitate. Traveling to another new dimension would surely cure his writer’s block. But he would not be fighting with blade this time. In order to truly immerse himself into it, he would have to truly become Odin Dark.  


In order to forget.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

(Alternate, non-canon ending due to fates.)

“Fear me fell beasts! The aching blood that runs through me will allow you to trouble this town for no longer! You are all fated to fall at my hand!”  


The pigeons coo in annoyance at this small disturbance and flutter off. The young girl, feeling satisfied at a job well done, sits back down and opens her book once more.  


She is young still-- only about seven or eight-- and gaunt. Her intelligent green eyes sitting sunken, her cheeks as well. Her clothes are covered in dirt and grime. And yet the book-- her most prized possession-- is clean and perfectly kempt, if well thumbed.  


This was the book with which she taught herself to read. This was the book that inspired her to be a heroic hero of legend. This was the book that introduced her to who she suspected was her true father-- Odin Dark.  


Despite being born to a whore and knowing that Odin was not known for dalliances with such, this was more the father of her sole-- a role model that she was destined to follow into the depths of hell and back. Her spirit father. The stars aligned in just the right manner when she found that book. The stars aligned, and she found herself looking up into a mixture of the light and the dark. A dusk of sorts. And so she christened herself with a new name to match this sudden Revelation. Ophelia Dusk.  


She had known no other surname, so this addition of her own last name made her feel a sort of pride in something. She would no longer steal as street waifs were so wont to do. She would be a heroic hero of legend and fate, not some common thief. And so she sat before this fountain, begging for change often, but also defending her property from being defouled by those fell birds-- those sinister avian fellows that would sooner shit on the masterwork in her possession than read it. It was sacrilege of the highest order. And so she sat and read, and her fated encounter nearly passed her by.  


Owain was returning home with the groceries Cynthia had asked for. When it was revealed that she was no longer able to fight, Owain refused to fight as well. He would fight with no other partner other than his one in everything, much to the ire of his aunt Robin. And so they sat and watched as the fell dragon fell.  


After the war, Owain and Cynthia had many discussions about adoption, but none really panned out at all. They were content to live out their lives as a pegasus knight teacher and her husband. They lived meagerly for a time until Owain’s first book-- The adventures of Odin Dark became a smash hit. Now they had more money than they knew what to do with-- money enough to share with children.  


Owain almost ignored this wretched street waif, until he noticed the book she was reading. The adventures of Owain Dark. He took a closer look at this starving, wretched, intelligent, beautiful little girl and knew in his heart of hearts that this meeting was fated by the gods.  


“Hello there.” Owain greets her. “What are you reading?” Ophelia looks back up at him-- this unassuming looking young man.  


“You don’t know about the tales of Odin Dark? The greatest hero of all time?”  


“He sounds like quite the man.” Owain nods.  


“He is my father.” Wistfully. Almost as if the girl wished it to be true rather than actually believed it to be. All the same… quite the coincidence…  


“What is your name?”  


“I am the girl who is fated to stand bestride the light and dark. I am Ophelia Dusk.” Owain softly claps. He nods his head to her in acknowledgement.  


“Well, Ophelia Dusk, I am known as Owain Exalt.” Ophelia’s eyes widen immediately.  


“You’re lying. That… can’t be true.”  


“I wrote that book you’re holding. Try me.”  


“Who is Odin Dark’s greatest companion?”  


“The one he values most, or the one he is with for the longest time?” Odin sees a small smile creep across the girl’s face.  


“Both.”  


“The one he valued the most was his estranged father, Heinrich Dark, but after he found him, he only traveled with him for only three days before he died from a deadly curse. His longest running companions are the questionably moraled Selena and Laslow. He does however grow to appreciate them more and more as their quest goes on.” Ophelia nods.  


“You’ve proven you are a fan. How do you prove you’re the writer?”  


“Heinrich is based off of my own father Henry. Selena and Laslow are based off of my friends Inigo and Severa. Lucy, the girl Odin was married to is based off of my cousin Lucina, and the wise sage Aurillies is based off of my father in law Gaius.” Owain shrugs. “Art imitates life.”  


“But that doesn’t exactly pr--”  


“I also have the rough draft of the next book here…”  


“LetmereaditletmereaditletmereaditLETMEREADIT!” Owain laughs.  


“I’ll make you a deal. You eat a meal with my family, and I’ll let you read my rough draft. Fair?”  


More than fair. In fact, she can’t even remember the last time she had a decent meal. She nods and goes with the writer of her favorite book for a meal with him and his family. And she gets to read the rough draft.  


Truly a meeting with fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. That’s why I ended it. Because fates exists. I am probably going to take a week off before going back to Lon’qu. But that will have the same sort of update schedule as this work. Be sure to comment your thoughts if you have them, I read all of them. I hope you enjoyed yourself at least.


End file.
